The 'Noble' House of Black
by Ash B Bramble
Summary: Lillian M. Black, daughter of the infamous Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon. She knows the truth of what happened the night the Potters were murdered, but the word of a two year old only goes so far. Her father imprisoned, her mother dead, she was placed as a Ward of the Malfoy's. Nothing is what it appears to be, everything is a charade and if she wants to survive Hogwarts ...
1. Summary

**AN: **

**A brief summary of the story because I didn't have enough room in the other thing. I should be posting a prologue within the next day or so.**

**Hope you enjoy the summary!**

**xo**

* * *

_Lillian M. Black, daughter of the infamous Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon. She knows the truth of what happened the night the Potters were murdered, but the word of a two year old only goes so far. Her father imprisoned, her mother dead, she was placed as a Ward of the Malfoy's. Nothing is what it appears to be, everything is a charade and if she wants to survive Hogwarts and the upcoming war, she'll have to play the game as well as Lord Voldemort himself. _

_All of which is easier said than done when every house besides Slytherin condemns her for the murder of the Potters and nearly every Slytherin either hates her for her half-blood status or her blood-traitor father. If she wants to survive, she'll have to prove herself to be as Slytherin as the Malfoys, prove herself to be an opponent none wishes to cross, which proves more difficult when Harry Potter and his band of misfits gets thrown into the mix; add in the fact that she got her Mother's bleeding heart and it proves to be an almost impossible task, especially when all she wants is to be able to live, love and experience life in a way that she won't ever be entitled to._

* * *

**Feel free to comment! **

**x**


	2. Legacy

A legacy, it's something you're born with, something you're stuck with no matter who you become or what you do to try and live up to aforementioned legacy, or live it down.

The Noble House of Black was her legacy, though it wasn't so noble any longer - if it ever was. Her father was a convicted murderer, no matter what her memories said to the contrary. Her Aunt Andromeda a disowned 'blood traitor' worth nothing to the remaining members of her family. Her Aunt Bellatrix was a deranged murderer who believed in pureblood supremacy and the death of any who dared stand in hers or the _almighty_ Voldemort way. Her Aunt Narcissa…well, she was the only _noble_ one left, and she wasn't even a Black anymore, she was a Malfoy; not much better in Lillian's opinion, but she couldn't be too harsh, Narcissa had taken her in, fed her, clothed her, educated her – of course that was only because they denied Andromeda the right to take her in as her own.

Lillian was just barely two when the Potters were killed, her father taken to Azkaban and imprisoned there for life. Her mother had been killed in the first war along with all of the muggles she was born from when she was around the age of one; Lillian didn't remember much about her mother and as she got older her memories became foggier and foggier, she quit being saddened by her lack of knowledge after her sixth birthday.

The Malfoys were relatively kind to her, they weren't outwardly nasty though Lucius had developed the tendency to be more blatantly disgusted by her mixed blood as she grew older and developed a thicker skin. Narcissi was kinder, but just barely. It was her cousin Draco that had been the most kind to her; never openly did he show her affection though.

Draco Malfoy was a sniveling, whining coward most days, but he was also a Slytherin, nothing he allowed you to see could be taken at face value; and Lillian had learned through various functions that he would protect her from the purest of purebloods who would have her put in dishrags and declared a servant, protect her as well as any eleven year old could anyways.

But no matter the status, everyone expected things from her. The Malfoy's expected her to be perfect, as perfect as any pureblood they would raise. Slytherins expected her to either become a blood traitor like her father, or demented like her aunt Bellatrix. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all wrote her off as a monster, like her father and her aunt Bellatrix, like a _Black_. Other kids her age didn't know _what_ to think of her, whether to be disgusted, scared, or indifferent. Slytherins had learned to be wary, for she was nothing less than Malfoy perfect when it came to pureblood parties or Malfoy business meetings, and as far as any Slytherin was concerned, she _was_ one of them; and with none besides the estranged Tonks offering her their love, she might as well be nothing more than a Slytherin destined to fulfill the legacy of the 'Noble' House of _Black_.

And to be a _Black_, was to be cursed.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

Feel free to review or e-mail!

Until next time,

x


	3. Appearances

_**AN:**_

I don't plan on making this a story that stretches through all seven years of Lillian's time at Hogwarts.I'm thinking I'll just include key parts of the first few years of her time at Hogwarts and maybe go into more detail (and length) as she gets older so that I can really incorporate the romance and life changing decisions that come with age.

Also, I may or may not end up doing the entire story as a highlight of the key years of Lillian's life with little extras thrown into the mix as a benefit, because we all know what happens in the books, and I don't have to rewrite the entire series just to show how my OC affected/changed the plot line.

**Side note:** I haven't actually written a lot of this story out, so this all just speculation on my part and subject to change.

* * *

_Special shout out:_

Guest:If you're still reading this, I just wanted to thank you for your interest and I hope you continue to find this next chapter worthy of your time. :)

First follower: you rock! :D Hope this chapter keeps you interested.

* * *

Lillian often wondered if it was the hair that gave away her ancestry, she wondered if people caught sight of the thick, midnight mass of wavy hair and immediately thought of her psycho Aunt Bellatrix. Lillian didn't quite understand how anyone could make that leap considering her hair was nowhere near as curly as Bellatrix Lestrange's chaotic mass of tangled corkscrews.

_So maybe it wasn't the hair_, she theorized, maybe it was her eyes; stormy gray eyes that could appear to be near translucent one moment and nearly obsidian in the next. Maybe that was it because it surely wasn't her face - she had her mother's facial structure, a delicate bone structure overlying a subtle strength that made muggles think twice about her perceived appearance of delicacy.

Whatever it was that identified her as a _Black_, it had students in the train corridor ducking into packed compartments in order to avoid her. It had first years and seventh years alike staring rather openly at the last remaining descendant of the Noble House of Black. Even those who had never seen her before, knew who she was…she was rather like Harry Potter in that aspect; except where most people went out of their way to interact with him, they went out of their way to avoid her, as if by breathing her air they were dirtying their blood.

Lillian momentarily wondered if Harry Potter, her god-brother, was astonished by his newly found fame, wonder if it overwhelmed him, scared him. She could give him a few tips on how to deal with the fame, though she doubted he'd want anything to do with her, not like he knew anything about her father's relationship to his own. _It was a shame, really_, she mused as she came upon a cart occupied by a solitary mocha-skinned boy staring rather stoically at a book in his lap, she was sure her god-brother could use all the knowledge he could get when it comes to this new world he knew absolutely nothing about. She had seen him with the Weasley clan though; she knew he could be in worse hands.

Pulling the compartment door open, she wasn't put out when the mocha-skinned boy didn't immediately look up; when he did, however, she was momentarily side-tracked by caramel gold eyes that peered at her from behind dark eyelashes.

"Do you mind if I share your compartment?" He watched her for a long moment, and she found that despite the intensity of his strange-colored gaze, his eyes were rather devoid of emotion.

She expected for his gaze to fall to her hair, compare the midnight strands to her gray eyes and immediately say no, but surprisingly enough, his eyes didn't stray from her own. When he came to his decision, he merely gave a slight nod before returning his gaze to his book.

Without another word, she stepped into the cart, taking a seat on the bench across from him, in a spot closest to the window as opposed to his seat in the middle of the bench across from her.

No words were exchanged between the two as kids screamed around them, muted through their closed door, the boy never looking up from his book as she stared out the window as the teary, joyful exchanges between family members took place just outside their window.

Lillian's own goodbye was neither teary nor joyful, unless one counted the joy she felt for being out of the Malfoy Manor for months on end, in that case, her departure was a very joyful gathering. The Malfoys, however, were far more concerned with their son than their unwanted Ward. She got the usual, 'don't dare misrepresent this family' speech and the 'if I hear one word about you getting anything below the highest marks, you'll meet the end of my cane' spiel that did nothing to strike fear into her heart.

Their cart remained silent for a good ten minutes before the door swung open to reveal her rather flustered looking cousin.

"_There_ you are," When Draco caught sight of the boy across from her, the boy still reading rather indifferently, he immediately straightened his clothes and smoothed back his hair, fixing upon his face the Lucius Malfoy sneer of supremacy; not like the other boy noticed, for he hadn't looked up once.

At the lack of attention Draco put on a show of huffishness, though Lillian could see the slight sign of relief in his cool gray gaze at the lack of care from the other boy.

With a rather wary glance in the indifferent boy's direction, Draco stepped into the compartment, sliding the door shut behind himself as he took the empty space next to her. "Who's this?" He inquired after a moment of silence.

"Blaise Zabini," She answered without pause, gaze turning back to the window as the view began to shift and change as the train began the long journey to Hogwarts.

She saw Zabini's head finally lift from his book – saw it through the reflection of the glass window – though she didn't turn to acknowledge the young boy she had recognized from a party the Malfoys had thrown in the mid-summer months. Lillian had seen him from across the ballroom, but she vividly recalled greeting his rather beautiful parents, so it wasn't hard to connect the rather handsome boy to be the prominent and wealthy Zabini family.

"Ah," Draco stuck out a hand, and Lillian watched Zabini pondered the rather pale hand before reaching out to accept it. "My name is Draco Malfoy."

"Blaise Zabini."

"Pleasure to meet you Zabini," Draco smirked, "As Slytherins, we ought to stick together, yes?"

Lillian saw Zabini lift one brow in response and she couldn't help but to smirk, "He's neither a Crabbe nor a Goyle, Draco, are you sure you wish to ally with someone with the capacity to actually use their brain effectively?"

Draco turned his head to glare sharply at her, though when she returned his gaze smirk lessened to a degree but still visible, she saw the faint trace of humor well hidden in his gaze. "My cousin, the comedian." He sneered in response, "You would think you'd be more concerned about forming your own alliances."

"Who's to say I'll even be placed in Slytherin Draco?" She mused thoughtfully, carefully concealing all traces of emotion as she watched the surety of his expression falter. "My father was Gryffindor, as you know."

"_Ah_, speaking of _that_," That being the subject of the source of her blood, "Filched this from mother's handbag." He slid a cream colored envelope from his jacket, handed it over to her carefully as she took in the calligraphic writing of her name on the front.

Turning it over, she fought the smile that threatened to soften her carefully concealed expression; for on the back was the Tonk seal of address.

Carefully sliding away the envelope into her shoulder bag, she gave Draco a small nod of appreciation, a nod of which he returned, before she returned her gaze to the passing scenery, vividly aware of caramel-gold eyes watching her for the brief second before Draco informed Zabini of the pros and cons of aligning himself with a Malfoy – though Lillian didn't doubt that Zabini knew he would be bringing a great deal onto the table of an alliance as well; for his was a powerful family quite well known for their neutrality on many supremacist topics in the world of wizardry and strongly revered for their growing wealth and deep-rooted power.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

Feel free to let me know what you think.

Until next time,

x


	4. The Sorting Hat

_**AN:**_

I was consulting my roommate on a few things and have come to two conclusions:

_1. Being the daughter of Sirius Black would make Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix Lillian's second cousins, not her aunts. _

and

_2. Apparently there is no such thing as god-siblings._

So, this is what I'm going to do. Considering both of these facts are technicalities I'm going to disregard them. If these two facts shook the very foundation upon which Harry Potter was written, well, that'd be different. _So,_ Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix **are** Lillian's aunts for all intents and purpose; and Harry Potter **is** Lillian Black's god-brother as she is his god-sister.

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**Guest:** Thank you for bringing to my attention the age issue! I got my math a little off. Lillian is actually a first year, I was basing my math on Harry being nearly two when his parents were killed, but he was barely just 1, so I've altered her age making her a little over two years old when the Potters were murdered. _(If it helps, her birthday is December 30, 1979, making her 7 months older than Harry - and 12 going into her first year of Hogwarts)._ In regards to writing it as a series, we'll see. :) I'm sort of writing this as a fly-by-my-pants kind of thing; which should be interesting because I haven't ever really written a story like that before. :D

**SwiftAlice:** I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! If you have any questions, feel free to PM, review or email me; I'd be more than happy to help clear a few things up, and maybe they're common concerns and I can address the story as a whole to make things more clear, and better for you as the reader! :) I'll try to do my best to keep updates consistent and not too far stretched. Hope you enjoy this next chapter, and have a great day! :D

x

* * *

"Black,_ Lillian!_" The cheers for the Abbott girl died immediately, everyone turning to watch as the unassuming-looking young girl made her way towards the hat, leaving behind a rather disgruntled pale-skinned boy, and a rather indifferent looking dark-skinned boy.

Curious by the sudden silence, muggle-born and half-bloods began to murmur amongst themselves, inquiring as to just who the young dark-haired girl was to inspire such severe silence. Various jaws dropped, a few eyes almost jumped out of their sockets, and more than a few turned away in open disgust as the petite girl clamored onto the stool and patiently, expressionlessly, waited for the hat to be placed upon her head.

"_Ah, Lillian Black. It's been awhile since I've felt a Black's mind."_

_"Like what you see?" _She mused wryly, it chuckled.

_"What I think I see isn't what I actually see though, is it?"_

_"How am I to know what it is you think you see?"_ She countered.

_"Intelligence in spades." _The hat mused softly, _"Too much intelligence for Ravenclaw I'd say._"

_"Do people who covet intelligence really ever consider there to be a level of intelligence too great?"_

The Hat ignored her parry, _"Your heart is large, but wounded. You're suspicious, and though you are accepting, you'll never be as blindly accepting as a Hufflepuff. You've got courage; you wouldn't have survived the bloody pits of pureblood society without it."_

_"But how did I survive cutthroat purebloods?"_

_"By being cunning, but you already knew this,_" The Hat seemed rather amused by the whole situation, _"You don't have to convince me of where you belong._ SLYTHERIN!"

None besides the Slytherins clapped, which wasn't a surprise to her, Lillian hadn't expected the other houses to rejoice that another snake was among them; she was young, but she had never been naïve.

Having recognized most of the older Slytherins sitting at the House table from Malfoy functions in years passed, she elected to sit away from them and towards the head of the table, surrounding herself with empty seats instead; she knew the older Slytherins were the type of people she would never choose to willingly socialize with.

The two Slytherins sorted after her chose to sit next to the older Slytherins, leaving her unaccompanied until a Devon Maccabee was called and sorted.

The girl was rather skinny, with tawny brown hair – hair that kind of reminded Lillian of a lion she once saw in a painting –and heterochromatic eyes; and when Devon took one of the many empty seats directly beside her, Lillian was admittedly surprised, even more so when the other first year decided to speak to her.

"I won't care if you're a Black if you don't care that my parents are muggles." She whispered beneath her breath, eyes on the sorting still taking place at the front of the Great Hall.

"Being a friend to me will get you even more blacklisted than you would just being a Muggleborn." Lillian responded without thought.

"The other houses already hate me for being a Slytherin, Slytherin's will hate me as soon as they learn I'm a muggleborn. I'm _already_ blacklisted." She whispered back.

"If you're positive." Lillian glanced at the girl on her left.

Devon met her gaze, her heterochromatic gaze hardened in a way that suggested she'd already learned where muggleborns stood in the world of magic. "Never been more sure about anything in my life."

Lillian gave an affirming nod before returning her gaze to the sorting hat that had just screamed Slytherin whilst barely even touching Draco's meticulously slicked back hair. "Welcome to the dark side Devon."

"It's only the dark side if you don't know any better." She countered softly as the pale-faced boy strode to the Slytherin table, claiming the seat beside Lillian with a flourish of pride that had the other houses sneering and the older Slytherins smirking – they'd all be fools if they didn't know who Draco Malfoy was.

When it was all said and done, Lillian was facing the upcoming year with solid support at her back. She had Draco, and though he'd never blatantly say it, he would thoroughly bully anyone who dared make an attempt to hurt her, either emotionally or physically. She had Devon, a muggleborn who had firsthand knowledge about condemnation that comes with a genetic makeup you couldn't control. And she had Blaise Zabini – who sat across from her at the more secluded end of the Slytherin House table – words had never been exchanged between them, not really, but she knew he would be an ally if she ever requested it of him, knew that because of the few glances they had shared since their encounter on the train.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

Feel free to let me know what you think.

Until next time,

x


	5. First Year Potions

_**AN:**_

I'm awful at math, Lillian **is** 11 going into this story, she'll be turning twelve in December. I was so focused on making her older than Harry but still a first year at the same time, that I got my months off. My apologies!

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**Isada:** Thank you! I tried to describe her in a way that wasn't overtly blatant. I'm glad you liked the sorting chapter! Whenever I think of anyone getting sorted, I always think of it in as a two-sided manner. :D And excellent! I'm glad you picked up on the fact that she isn't really accepted by either side; I wanted to set her apart, make her a true outcast. I needed to give her something that put her in a league of her own, something that would make her as infamous of a character as Harry is. I **am** doing a few key parts of all the books, as you said, it's a great way to develop Lillian's character; so it won't just be a few chapters per book and then BAM, the story's over. Devon and Lillian **are** friends, if it seems they're more like frallys now, that'll change as they grow older and their relationship develops. I'm glad you like 'the dark side' line; because Devon's muggleborn, I didn't want her to be mistaken as naive and willing to accept things for what they _aren't_ (if that makes any sense), I wanted her to have an insight that not everything is as it seems and because of that, she and Lillian come to an almost immediate understanding of one another and their circumstances. And YOU'RE RIGHT! Omg, I hate birthdays, haha. Luckily, I don't have to rewrite anything because I haven't come outright and called her 12 yet. So THANK YOU for pointing that out. This is why I'm not majoring in anything dealing with numbers.

**EmeraldStorm7:** When I was writing about her being a ward of the Malfoys, the Dursleys did come to mind. :) As for their treatment of her, it is better in some circumstances, but you can't forget, this is Lucius Malfoy we're talking about; he's not all sunshine and roses. ;) Thank you, I'm really glad that you like it! :D As for Draco, I tried to stay in tune with the way he's portrayed in the books/films. Though I really can't stand that he's a coward most of the times even though he's supposed to be 'the chosen one' for the dark side, so I'm really going to tie the fact that Slytherins are cunning creatures into this story, and these Slytherins only ever show you what they want you to see, they subtly manipulate you until you think of them, only what they want you to think of them. I hope you like this next chapter. :D

xo

* * *

_Side note: If you would like to make a request as to what scenes get played out from the novels, I would be more than happy to take them into consideration._

* * *

"I don't _want_ to go to Potions." Devon muttered from Lillian's right, it was just them as they headed to double Potions with the Gryffindors; they had left behind Draco with Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini and Lillian almost wanted to smile as she recalled the look of utter contempt on Zabini's face when he realized Crabbe and Goyle had less brains combined than Mrs. Norris. Lillian doubted Blaise would be seen around Draco's new threesome often.

"He's our Head of House Dev," Lillian admonished, "You'll have to come face-to-face with him eventually."

"I don't like labeling people," She began, "But when I look into those black eyes, I feel like I'm looking into the epitome of an empty soul. As if his existence is so desolate, he's going to do his best to make everyone else's life as filled with suffering as his."

Lillian looked over at Devon curiously, "You're very astute."

"You're a Ward of the Malfoys, I'm a Ward of London." She murmured with a shrug of her shoulders, "I grew up in fosters, I was always watching people, determining for myself what kind of people I was surrounded by and whether or not they were people I _wanted_ to be surrounded by."

_No wonder she was in Slytherin_, Lillian mused silently. "Makes you an excellent judge of character."

Devon grinned, "Why do you think I chose you?"

A rhetoric question that Lillian didn't verbally respond to, she did, however, offer Devon a small smile.

As they stepped into the classroom, it was to a half-filled room, the sides clearly dividing Slytherin from Gryffindor and Professor Snape had yet to enter the room.

Lillian had just set out her potions book, blank parchment, her quills and her ink when Harry Potter clamored into the room with the youngest Weasley boy at his side.

Lillian watched as Harry took his seat and she briefly wondered if he had brushed his hair that morning for it was an unruly, wild mass of black and then she found herself wondering if he knew that his glasses were crooked before she figured he must have known.

As she continued to watch him, she discovered she felt pity for her god-brother; who looked completely unsettled by the pickled animals floating in glass jars around the cool classroom. She felt a brief flash of need to help him, to offer him a thicker robe to off-set the slight chill of the dungeons. But then her feelings of sympathy were gone, for this was a boy that knew nothing of her, this was a boy that would soon hate her, once he learned that her father had 'murdered' his parents.

He would never pity her, he would never care for her, not while the truth was buried beneath darkness; and Harry Potter was a weakness she could never afford.

Lillian was pulled away from her silent musings when Professor Snape came into the room; his black robes billowing behind him in a grand sweep that – when paired with the permanent scowl on his face – only added to his commandeering, intimidating aura.

It was when the black-haired professor got to the front of the room, that he started class with roll call; and unlike her other professors, he didn't blink at the sight of her name, merely waited for her exclamation of presence before moving on. When he got to Potter, however, Lillian was slightly surprised by the malevolence she saw in the older man's gaze.

"Ah, yes," He spoke softly. "Harry Potter. Our new – _Celebrity_."

Lillian heard Draco snicker with the two brainless buffoons he had befriended a few summers ago; but their snickers came to a halt as Professor Snape finished calling roll and began the class with the usual lecture of expectations and warning that came from all professors on the first day of class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." Snape spoke softly, like the transfigurations professor he had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Lillian kept her eyes on the professor, noticed from her peripheral, however, that Devon looked rather pale, the tense, straight line of her back looked rather painful as well.

"Potter!" Professor Snape suddenly yelled, bringing Lillian's gaze to the dear-in-the-headlights Gryffindor boy. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Lillian could clearly see that Harry hadn't a clue as to what the Professor was talking about, his skin had gone ashen and he nervously fixed his crooked glasses, glasses that near immediately went lopsided once he had pulled his hand away.

"I don't know, sir."

_Wrong answer_, Lillian turned her gaze to the front of the room, unwilling to watch Professor Snape humiliate him, and Lillian could tell by the Professor's sudden sneer that that was _exactly_ what he intended to do.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Lillian noticed a bushy-haired Gryffindor nearly falling out of her seat in an attempt to answer the question – Lillian nearly shut her eyes at the sight, the girl obviously hadn't heard of Professor Snape's rather awful reputation.

"I don't know, sir." Was his respectful, but strained answer; his gaze flitting hopefully to Hermione's outstretched hand as he tried to studiously ignore the laughing Malfoy and company.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, _eh_, Potter?" Devon shot her a worried look, wondering if Snape was just being awful because he didn't like Gryffindors, because he didn't like Potter, or because he was just generally awful.

Lillian gave a small shake of her head, a silent signal not to worry; Lillian knew the Professor generally favored Slytherins, but she'd never heard of him being so blatantly awful to a student, especially just a first year.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Lillian saw Hermione stand from her seat and had to briefly shut her eyes in order to collect herself, she could understand the girls enthusiasm, she could, but the girl wasn't only going to end up hurting herself with that enthusiasm, at least in Snape's class.

"I _don't_ know," Harry murmured and Lillian felt an odd sort of pride at the soft tone of his ire. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?" Even if it would only get him in trouble, she was proud of his cheek.

A few people laughed, Snape's scowl only darkened.

"Sit _down_," The professor finally snapped at Hermione. "_Black_." Lillian's gaze snapped to black, bottomless eyes. "Would you do us the honor of answering the questions our _celebrity_ could not?"

She almost found herself refusing; she knew what Professor Snape was doing, he was separating herself from Harry, was giving Harry a reason to resent her before he was even aware of their relation to each other. But in the end, she didn't really have a choice; Potter didn't yet have her loyalty, and those who had her loyalty were in _her_ House, not Gryffindor.

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it saves you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they're the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

Professor Snape watched her silently before turning his gaze to the rest of the class, "Why aren't you writing that down?" As students rummaged for their supplies, his black gaze zeroed in on Harry, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter. As two will be rewarded to Slytherin for Miss Black's ability to prepare for class."

A horde of Gryffindors turned to glare at her and Lillian knew that it would definitely not be the last time she was regarded with such distaste by the House of Lions. Lillian was more than aware that she would be on the receiving end of those looks for the rest of her years as a member of the Wizarding World.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

Feel free to leave reviews!

Until next time,

x


	6. Felines, Squibs, and Gryffindors

_**AN:**_

* * *

_Special shout-outs_:

**Isada:** No problem! I figure, you take the time to review, you deserve the shout out. :) I'm glad you like Devon, and with her involved it definitely won't be dull, she's a rather blunt person. haha. I'm glad you enjoyed the original scene, and I hope this next chapter doesn't disappoint. As for Marlene's house, I haven't mentioned it, I don't even really know the answer myself - and thus I don't think Lillian knows quite yet either. The information she has concerning her mother is rather limited, and you'll learn why within the next few chapters. I hope you continue to like it! :)

**Hoove-print-on-your-heart**: I'm glad you like it so far, and I hope I can keep you and interested. :)

* * *

The angry hiss of anger made her pause just outside of the library doors, but it was the soft mewl of pain and the sound of cruel laughter that had her ignoring her original intention to study and instead found her heading towards the corridor in which the multitude of sounds came from. What she found was anything less than pleasing.

A group of students from Ravenclaw were kicking and taunting a rather ruffled looking cat Lillian vaguely recalled seeing around school, never too far from the frail looking caretaker. Her angry red eyes were filled with dislike, with hate, but Lillian could see the pain – she was probably the only one who could.

Just as another kid reared back for a nasty kick, Lillian felt her control snap. "_Hey_!" The unexpected yell stopped them all, a half a dozen eyes swiveling towards her; some sneered, some paled. "Leave her alone!"

"Or what?" An older Ravenclaw sneered, his blue eyes filled with dark amusement that she didn't appreciate in the least. She appreciated his amusement even less when he kicked the cat again.

Her wand fell from its cache in her sleeve and into her palm, "Black's are awfully good at killing curses." The older boy froze, trepidation misplacing his amusement; the others audibly drew in shallow breaths of astonishment and fear, their eyes flitting to the wand that she was obviously very comfortable handling. "Care for a demonstration, birdie?"

"You wouldn't." But his voice lacked the confidence his body was trying to convey.

"_Wouldn't_ I?" She questioned, fingers curling tighter around her wand, "I'm a _Black_, after all."

His blue eyes narrowed, as if he suspected that something was amiss before his housemates began tugging at his sleeves. "Just leave it, Hayden. Let's go, she's crazy."

He hesitated, though Lillian could think of no plausible reason for him to do so, and then he was gone, emptying the corridor to leave just she and a rather rangy looking cat.

Tucking away her wand, she regarded the red eyes staring at her with a slight sense of resignation, "And here I was, doing so well at keeping control of my temper."

The cat tilted its head at her, her red eyes guarded, as if expecting her temporary savior to be just as bed as the other students that tortured her.

"No worries, kitten," Lillian assured, crouching down to assure the feline she wouldn't lash out like all the other students that tortured that cat. "You won't ever have to worry about me."

Lillian waited patiently for the animal to come to a decision, was mildly surprised, and completely pleased, when the feline padded towards her; pausing to briefly regard her unmoving hands before padding into the space between her legs, brushing against her softly, head butting against free hands.

Lillian could do nothing but smile as she smoothed down the ruffled fur, consequently letting down her guards for this mistreated creature; her heart softening as loud purrs filtered into the empty corridor.

Lillian didn't know how much time had passed when she realized there was a panting old man by some old painting a little ways down the corridor. Rising, she felt her defenses raise as she regarded the man's narrowed stare.

He opened his mouth, most likely to yell at her, when the cat wound her way through Lillian's legs, tail wrapping around her calf in a rather blatant show of possession before meowing at the haggard looking man.

"_Mrs. Norris_?" The man asked, shock lining his thin face in a manner that almost had Lillian smiling; but her guard had been lowered once already and she'd been caught off guard, she couldn't afford to let it happen again so soon.

"I was merely petting her, sir." Lillian spoke, voice without inflection but polite. "I meant no disrespect nor harm to Mrs. Norris."

He appeared to be at a loss of words before he came to his senses, distaste lining his features in a way that was all too familiar to Lillian. She saw it for what it was, a defense mechanism, one Lillian knew she would never fault the older man for.

"You best be going before I report you." What he could report her for, Lillian hadn't a clue, but out of respect she did as he suggested, giving Mrs. Norris once last scratch before turning on her heel and heading to the library.

Lillian had entered the library and was making her way towards the tables in the back when she came across a scene she wasn't quite expecting, and, shielded by the shadows of bookcases, she stepped a little closer and peered quietly upon the unexpected altercation.

There, a few yards away, stood the eager Gryffindor from Potions, a young muggle-born girl Lillian could now name as one Hermione Granger. She stood before a group of her own house members, older girls, all taunting her rather cruelly for things Lillian couldn't hear but could take an accurate guess at.

It was only when the older girls had turned and left, leaving behind a quiet, trembling Granger that Lillian stepped out from the shadows. "You shouldn't let them walk all over you."

The other girl jumped, bushy curls bouncing behind her as watery-brown eyes met distant grey. "What?"

"Just because you're a muggleborn, Granger, doesn't make you spineless. If you're going to be the smartest girl of your age, you best develop a tougher skin," Lillian warned, "Because they won't stop, not when you've got the natural talent that they don't." And talent Hermione Granger had, she had heard the Gryffindor was a natural with magic, much to the distaste of a multitude of purebloods, and not just Slytherin purebloods either; just a month or so in to school and Granger had developed quite the reputation for being a know-it-all, and Lillian knew from experience that the taunting would only get worse before it had any chances of getting better.

With nothing more to say to the Gryffindor girl, Lillian turned and proceeded to make her way towards her original destination; she had a transfiguration essay that needed to be written, after all, and it's not like it would write itself.

Lillian had only just settled in at her table and begun to write the first line of her essay when she noticed the Granger girl hesitantly standing behind the empty seat across from her.

"You're welcome to sit down Granger, I'm not going to hex you." She mused wryly, wondering just why the Gryffindor girl was at her table and not somewhere else.

"I have nowhere else to sit," Was her pitiful whisper; and had Lillian been a Gryffindor, she would have felt angry on the girl's behalf, would have gladly offered her the friendship she so obviously lacked…but Lillian wasn't a Gryffindor, she wouldn't ever be.

Meeting saddened brown eyes, Lillian didn't lie, "I can't ever be your friend Hermione. You have the potential to have many wonderful friends," And she did, Lillian knew that much – Gryffindors were just rather pigheaded in all aspects of their life and wouldn't realize Hermione's potential for a while to come. "But _not_ if you're friends with me." The truth of her words, hurt the awfully Gryffindor-like part of Lillian's heart; the section of her heart she had sequestered off and buried years ago – but no one else would ever be permitted to see that hurt, it was bad enough that _she_ knew about it. "We can sit together, we can talk about mundane things, we can even offer helpful hands every now and then. But that's all we can be." It was a harsh truth of the world Lillian lived in, a world she knew people like Granger would never be able to comprehend.

For a moment, Lillian thought Granger would turn around leave; she was surprised, however, when the other girl took the seat across from her after only a moment's hesitation.

"You're not as awful as they say you are, are you?" A pondering question, as if, because Lillian had offered a veiled form of kindness to the other girl, that made all Hermione had heard in regards to Lillian mistruths.

"Don't ever make the mistake of assuming me harmless Granger," An honest warning, the severity of her grey gaze causing the other girl to pale. "I won't ever be harmless." _No_, she was far from harmless, she just had a bleeding bloody heart; a heart she had inherited from the man who had betrayed everything he had been raised to believe, and a woman who had given everything for the belief in a better life for everyone in the wizarding world…even if she wasn't around to live in that world.

* * *

To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

x


	7. Break-Ins and Fear

**AN:**

I was going to make this next chapter an Extra, but decided there were a few things about it that needed to be read now instead of after the Sorceror's Stone. So that's why this chapter is slightly shorter than my usual chapters.

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**Red-Hot Habanero**: I'm glad you enjoy it. :) And yes, she will be interacting with Sirius Black. However, if you really love him, you may not love how I portray him in this story. He's not awful or anything, nor is he evil in any way, shape, or form. But you'll see what I mean as the time comes. Of course, you'll see more of him once I hit Prisoner of Azkaban.

**Cookies:** I'm glad you like Lillian! I want to explore the other side of the wizarding world, and for me, Lillian was the perfect way to do it. Blackinnon won't be mentioned much the first few 'books', you'll see why a little later on in the story; but they will be mentioned, forewarning, probably not as much as dedicated Blackinnon shippers would like just because this is a story about their daughter. [maybe there will be some sort of prequel once I've finished Lillian's story]. Hermione and Lillian will be quasi-acquaintances. Lillian will definitely be lending a very helpful, very discrete (to potter and others), hand when it comes to all of the things he has to do to defeat Voldemort. **Slight spoiler: **yes, she is named after Lilly Potter, I didn't want it so obviously put; I've already got a scene from the third book where it mentions who she's named after.

**Isada:** Yay! I completely agree about Hermione's first few months being a rough time, and I wanted to put Lillian in her life as a way to solidify the fact that Lillian isn't who everyone thinks she is, and yet, she is at the same time (if that makes any sense); **and** I figured Lillian extending an olive branch to Hermione was a great way to introduce the hidden Gryffindor part of her personality. Get used to Lillian doing that, haha, because it's a great way for her to defend herself, and others, without showing her 'bleeding' heart. As for Filch, I figure, Harry gets Hagrid, Lillian should get Filch and Norris, who, I feel, are largely mistreated (I mean, come on, she's just a cat, no need to hurt her).

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you! As for Lillian and Nott, they'll have a small relationship, nothing real romantic or serious. I'm sorry to disappoint. :/

x

* * *

"From your father?" Lillian awaited Malfoy's response, buttering a slice of toast and handing it to Devon in the meantime, who accepted it with grumbled thanks. Lillian had learned fairly quickly that the other girl wasn't, and never would be, a morning person. Lillian had thus enlisted the help of Peeves and together, each morning, they found new, interesting ways to awaken the young girl who could sleep through a train wreck.

"There has been a break-in at Gringotts, he's asked me whether I believe we should move banks." He murmured as he folded up the letter and tucked it into his robe; sorting through the chocolate delicacies that had accompanied the family Eagle Owl, putting a pile of chocolate frogs and strawberries next to Lillian's plate – she accepted them with a soft, brief smile.

Others would be surprised that a grown man would ask such a question from a young boy, but Lucius Malfoy was grooming his son – had been since his birth – to take over the Malfoy businesses, and thus often asked Draco business related questions, and often honestly took Draco's advice into heavy consideration.

"What do you think?" She questioned.

"I think father would be foolish to move banks, Gringotts has been a loyal server to the Malfoy Incorporation since we were first established. The item stolen was on the opposite side of the bank, and not only that, but the goblins would be fools if they ever permitted anything to happen to Father's money."

Lillian nodded in agreement, Draco was right; her cousin was fast on his way to being the man his father was grooming him to be, Lillian could only hope that Draco maintained that deep streak of honor and loyalty he permitted very, very few to bare witness to.

"Did you hear?" Goyle questioned from beside the highly unamused Blaise, who regarded the chubby boy with a raised brow that Goyle paid no attention to.

Lillian fought so hard not to smirk; Devon had less success, however, and had to smother her chuckle through a mouthful of bread.

"Hear what?" Draco inquired.

"Flying lessons today, with the Gryffindors."

Lillian's gaze flickered over to the Gryffindor table, where they gathered around a boy she vaguely recognized as the Longbottom boy, some bright red ball in his hand.

"What is that?" Devon inquired softly in question.

"A Remembrall." Draco responded, "It turns red when you forget something. And obviously the poor idiot has forgotten something. His brains probably."

Unamused as his two goons chuckled, Lillian slanted a gaze to her cousin, who steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.

Her gaze met caramel-gold briefly before Devon tugged on her sleeve from underneath the table, "Lilly?" A soft whisper.

"Yes, Dev?" She inquired, concern turning grey eyes a shade darker as she regarded her worried friend.

"I don't like heights." She whispered as Draco ranted and raved to Goyle, Crabbe – and by extension Blaise – about how it was unfair that first years weren't permitted to join the quidditch teams.

Lillian loved her cousin, she did, but it was times like these that she really hated the fact that he chose the whining coward when determining how he wanted others to perceive him.

"I'm not," She informed Devon after tuning Draco and his incessant babbling out, "So stick by me and I'll keep you firmly on the ground." She promised.

"You're a good flyer?" She inquired, eyes darting to the people around them, always wary of who heard of her weaknesses. And fears were one of a Slytherin's greatest weaknesses.

"I am."

A trembling hand found hers under the table, "Good." A breath of relief, and Lillian found herself squeezing the other girl's hand reassuringly; knowing that she and Devon had just solidified their friendship.

* * *

To all of my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

x


	8. Flying Lessons

_**AN:**_

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: I can't guarantee that will happen, but I hope you continue reading even if Theo and Lillian don't interact the way you wish for them to.

**Lady Elizabeth of New York**: I'm happy that Lillian is an enjoyable OC for you, I know some OCs are really hard to like. Thank you for the support! I hope I don't disappoint. :)

**Hoove:** I'm glad you like her name! As for Hermione, I needed Lillian to 'befriend' one of the Golden Trio to really have a weight in Harry's future, and I couldn't really see her befriending Harry until after he realizes Sirius isn't guilty for the murder of his parents. But their friendship won't be all sunshine and roses, as we'll see when Hermione finally befriends Harry and Ron.

**Isada:** I'm glad you liked it! I'm also a fan of their friendship, I figure Lillian needs her 'Trio' though it's more like a quartet really. haha. :)

**Cookies:** Her and Draco are close, and they will have plenty of bonding bits, but at school, most of those bonding scenes will be rather subtle, since Draco has to uphold his image and showing that he cared - rather strongly - for Lillian would put a major kink in that image. And honestly, _don't hate me_, I don't know how thoroughly I'm going to incorporate the other Slytherins. There may be a few scenes with one or two other characters, but the ones I've already mentioned are the ones that keeping coming to mind while writing these chapters, and I don't really want to force anything. _Hopefully_ there will be a few more Slytherin characters, if not the ones from the book, then the ones I make up._  
_

x

* * *

It was all going well, Devon wasn't freaking out, Draco was behaving – if not acting exceedingly smug because his broom came up faster than Potter's did – but everything went downhill when Longbottom managed to hurt himself and Madam Hooch left the lesson to escort him to Madam Pomfrey.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Draco sneered and laughed, a few of his followers laughing with him. Lillian blatantly ignored him, helping Devon off of her broom before locking eyes with Hermione and going to the other girl to help her get down from the broom Lillian had helped get into the air.

"Shut up, Malfoy," The Patil girl snapped, Lillian let out a soft sigh; now he _wouldn't_ let it go.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Sneered Parkinson, "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry-babies, Pavarti." Pansy was a nice girl, but she was developing quite a mean streak, and Lillian couldn't really blame her, not after all that taunting the other girls had put her through.

"_Look_!" Draco sneered, moving forward and taking up the clear Remembrall of Longbottom's. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give it here, Malfoy." Lillian turned her head curiously, watching as everyone stopped talking to regard the Boy Who Lived.

Why Draco loved to make the other boy's life such hell, Lillian had yet to learn, but she knew hell was coming as a nasty smile twisted her cousin's sharp features.

"I _think _I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

_Potter should really learn to better control his emotions_, Lillian thought to herself as she watched Potter's temper flare, his cheeks flushing red with indignation. "Give it _here!_" But no one made demands of Draco, and Lillian watched as Draco leapt onto his broomstick and took off.

"Come and get it, _Potter_!" And, as Draco knew he would, Harry took the gauntlet Draco had thrown – never challenge a Gryffindor, they wouldn't ever be able to turn away.

"_No!_" Hermione left Lillian's side to jump into the fray. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

"Is that all she's worried about?" Devon murmured, and Lillian was surprised to find that not only had Devon migrated to her side, but so had Blaise. "_Trouble_?"

"Give her a few years, I'm sure she'll find a reason or two to break the rules." Lillian murmured, watching Draco level with the topmost branches of an Oak.

Typical challenged Gryffindor, Harry ignored Hermione, mounted his broom, and kicked off the ground. Lillian couldn't lie, Draco was an excellent flyer, but Harry Potter was equally as good and Lillian was positive that the other boy had only been on a broom once before this moment; and that was when he'd gotten a broom from her father on his first birthday.

"_Wow_," Devon breathed.

And Lillian silently agreed, eyes turning from Potter to look at Draco, who looked as stunned as she felt.

There was an exchange of words that none on the ground could hear, but they didn't need to hear what was being said to know that Draco was being a smug git, and Harry was trying to nobly retrieve Longbottom's gift – if not only to go head to head with Draco.

And then Devon was gasping, eyes screwed shut tightly before her left eye popped open, wanting to look away, but not being able to. "_Oh my god_." She whispered. Harry sped towards Draco, who just managed to escape being pummeled off his broom by the charging Gryffindor.

"How the bloody – how are they staying on their brooms?"

"Talent." Was Blaise's droll response, but when Lillian turned her head, she could see him watching the flying techniques both boys utilized. _Interesting_, Lillian mused, _Blaise liked Quidditch_. It was the first thing she had learned about the boy all year, she figured it to be one of the only things she would learn about him.

"Can you fly like that Lillian?" Devon inquired as they watched Draco throw the Remembrall and then land smoothly on the ground, Slytherins flocking to him as if he were a King.

"I can." Lillian agreed, ignoring her cousin to watch Harry race towards Hogwarts, his grip sure, his body balanced, his broom speeding after the ball; and when he caught the Remembrall, Lillian smirked.

"_Merlin_." A soft expletive from the muggleborn on her right, "Beautiful." A statement of awe as Harry came back to a crowd of cheering Gryffindors and a fuming Draco.

"We may make a Quidditch player of you yet Devon." Lillian teased her friend.

Devon let out a snort, "In your dreams Lilly, unless it's life or death, there's no way in this universe that you'll get me over six feet off the ground."

Lillian smirked; never challenge a Gryffindor, even if she is part Slytherin.

Draco strutted his way over to them after watching Potter sullenly follow McGonagall off the field. "I wouldn't be too smug Draco," Lillian advised.

"And why is that, cousin?" Draco inquired; smirk still pasted to his expression.

"McGonagall." The answer came from Blaise, his input unexpected.

Meeting caramel-gold eyes briefly, Lillian caught a small twitch of his lips, and she almost smiled in return.

"What about the Professor?" Devon inquired, bringing Lillian's attention back to her cousin and friend.

"She's Gryffindor's Head of House," Lillian answered, "An avid follower of quidditch as well."

Draco's smirk fell, Devon's face still twisted into confusion, "_And_?"

"And Harry Potter would make a brilliant Seeker." Smirking at her cousin's scowl, she left him for Blaise to deal with as she and Devon went back to their discarded brooms; Lillian explaining just what a Seeker in quidditch did and why Potter would make a good one as they waited for Madam Hooch's return.

* * *

To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

x


	9. Halloween and Helping Hands

AN:

* * *

_Special shout outs_:

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you!

**DynamicCheetah:** I was only aware that she was a member of the order, all I could find on the subject was that her blood status was unknown.

**hoove-print-on-your-heart**: You probably won't get to see her flying skills for awhile. And there really wasn't much to that part in the book; there's a little more action in this part, but not a whole lot. I hope you still continue reading though! :)

**cookies:** I figured that there wasn't any way to have her intervene without changing the foundation of her character. And don't worry, she has a temper. haha. As you said, she's the daughter of Sirius Black, of course she's going to have one. But she was raised in a house of purebloods, she couldn't afford not to appear calm and collected, and because of that, she has excellent control over her temper.

**The Jet**: Thanks for the suggestion, I'll try and keep that in mind.

x

* * *

"Pass the pudding?" Lillian inquired of the tall and lanky, dark haired boy who had somehow found his way towards their end of the table.

Over the past two months, Lillian had found that a lot of the younger Slytherins had migrated towards where she and Draco sat with Blaise and Devon. She figured it was more because she had yet to kill any of them, and partly in fact that Draco was quickly becoming the leader of the first years – and a few second years as well.

The boy she could vaguely place as Theodore Nott handed her the big bowl of pudding, which she took with a small smile of thanks in his direction.

"I don't know how I feel about this new crowd of people." Devon murmured into her ear, scowl on her face as she glared at Parkinson, who was laughing rather obnoxiously at whatever unfunny thing Draco had just said.

"It could always be worse." Lillian countered, "You could always be a Gryffindor."

Devon choked on her pumpkin juice, "Don't _even_ joke like that." Lillian hid her smile behind her goblet, her eyes meeting curious caramel candy.

"You don't wish to be a lion?"

"They're bloody morons." Devon objected, but Lillian turned to face her friend; there was something about Devon's proclamation that didn't settle with her.

"Dev?"

Heterochromatic eyes refused to meet grey; "They make presumptions simply because of the color of my tie." Her jaw clenched, "As if they forget just where it is I come from."

Lillian nudged her friend's leg with her own, "If they can't look past a simple color Devon, then they don't deserve the honor of knowing you."

Lillian found herself looking into one pure emerald eye, and one dark chestnut eye; the furious riot of emotions in the wild gaze surprising her. "They're blind fools Lillian, and they don't deserve to know you either. I'm _proud_ to be a Slytherin. We may be snakes, but at least we're not blind."

Lillian had just opened her mouth to speak when the Great Hall doors slammed open to reveal the quivering Professor Quirrel – a rather odd professor that Lillian had taken an immediate disliking towards; and not just because he leered at her like some intriguing specimen meant to be studied.

"T – T – T – Troll in the dungeons – thought you ought to know." And then the haggard Professor collapsed to the floor, lifeless, leaving the Great Hall in an uproar as children from all houses panicked; Devon's hand suddenly grasping Lillian's tight beneath the table.

"_SILENCE!" _Headmaster Dumbledore bellowed, bringing unending quiet upon the room "Prefects," He rumbled, "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Chaos ensued as the other Houses, students of all years, ran frantically for the doors – the first years flocking to their prefects like rabid dogs.

Letting the others rampage their way towards the exit, Lillian held Devon back until the majority of students were gone. Only then did she carefully lead them towards the Slytherin dormitories; paying no mind to the vice-like grip Devon had on her hand, her friend was terrified, and if she needed to break Lillian's hand to deal with that fear, then so be it.

"The troll…it's in the dungeons, isn't it?" Devon questioned as they entered the main corridor, "Doesn't that mean it will be near our dormitories?"

"What, you're afraid of a Troll? Come on Devon," Lillian shot the other girl a grin, "Two Slytherin witches versus a Troll, it stands _no_ chance."

Devon gave a shaky laugh, "You _are_ rather excellent with spells."

"And with your temper -," Draco's cold voice unexpected to their ears, they watched him push his way through the kids looking to trample him in order to reach them. "You'll be great at curses Devon."

Lillian arched a brow at the thinly veiled anger in her cousin's dark grey eyes, "Where the bloody hell were you?" He demanded, his rather harsh tone and surprisingly vulgar tongue taking Devon by surprise.

"Don't take that tone with me Draco," Lillian warned as he gripped her free wrist and led her towards where Blaise waited, casually leaning up against a wall out of the slowly dwindling traffic. "I'm not one of your posse. I chose to not get trampled."

"I hadn't even realized you weren't with me, Lillian," He muttered, "If it hadn't have been for Zabini, I would have left you behind."

"I can handle myself Draco," She reiterated, still not forgiving him for his tone of voice; he had only ever treated them as equals, and for him to talk down to her – even if it was because of his worry – it hurt that not-so Slytherin part of her.

"You don't _have_ to." Draco spat out; which was when she realized he wasn't just angry at her for not keeping up, he was angry at himself for leaving her behind – after all, he had sworn to her on her eighth birthday that he would always protect her.

She kept her mouth closed, knowing that she could say nothing that would make Draco feel better, only he could ease his guilt.

"Where were you two?" Blaise inquired as they reached him and continued towards the Slytherin dormitories together.

"Having a bloody _picnic_, Zabini, where do you think?" Devon snapped, paling at the arch coolness in the slanted look he gave her in response to her sarcasm.

"Uh…_sorry_." Devon murmured, offering him a sheepish smile, Blaise merely looked away.

It was then that Lillian knew Devon had just made a rather large mistake in assuming Blaise would tolerate her flare in temper; Blaise owed no one a thing, and that made him a dangerous boy to snap at. It was because of his somewhat familiar association to them, that he hadn't done anything more than give Devon a look that suggested she better leash her tongue or meet the end of an intelligence Lillian didn't doubt could be utilized like a whip to draw psychological blood.

Blaise may have been just as young as them, but he came from a pureblood family just as powerful and influential as Draco; add Blaise's power with his intelligence and that made for a potentially deadly combination. Lillian was _acutely_ aware that once they were older, no one of reasonable sanity would _ever_ choose to test Blaise's patience, _no one_ would wish to be at the receiving end of his wand, or his words.

* * *

To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

x


	10. Cursed Brooms and Silent Pitches

_**AN:**_

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you! Sorry there wasn't any Theo action, there almost was, but I complete forgot to incorporate him, I'll try next time though! :)

**Cookies:** You can say all you want, haha, and thank you! I'm tremendously happy that you're loving the main characters so far. I'm not doing pairings for the first couple of books - which, totally sucks because all I can think about are the older versions of Lillian and Blaise and I just can't stop telling myself to get there already! haha. I am _not_ doing canon pairings so who knows, maybe you'll get a little Devon/Draco action. ;) Hopefully, this chapter doesn't disappoint.

**Hoove:** Thank you!

**Alexstarlight18:** Thank you! That means a lot and I hope you continue to love Lillian and her story. :)

x

* * *

"This is _so _exciting," Devon murmured eagerly as she, Lillian and Blaise claimed a bench on the last row – though Slytherin House was sparse, everyone attended the games, and the older students made sure that the younger ones got the worst seats.

Lillian's clear gaze briefly took in the stadium – the first quidditch stadium she had ever been to before – before her eyes fell to her cousin, who had somehow acquired a rather good seat a few benches below she and their companions.

"You know," She spoke softly to the quiet-faced boy next to her, letting Devon bask in the glory of the pitch and the roaring students. "I'm sure you could have gotten a better seat beside Draco."

"A seat's a seat." Was his toneless response.

Silver flickered to the mocha-skinned boy, his eyes unmoving from Madam Hooch below. "I don't believe that." She objected, she remembered the way his gaze had been riveted to Draco and Potter during the altercation that had landed Potter the position as Gryffindor Seeker.

He gave her a slanted look, expression unchanging. "Devon and I…we would have been fine on our own. _But_," She went on before he could think her ungrateful, "I appreciate you sitting with us."

Before she could see if he would respond, Devon was spouting off question after question, demanding Lillian's attention as Devon's feet beat a thousand beats pet minute against the floor beneath them, her eyes lit up in excitement as the House teams came out onto the pitch.

Lillian enjoyed Quidditch, she could live without it, but it could also be very entertaining; however, watching Devon as the game started – hearing her surprised inhalations, seeing her knuckles turn white as her hands curled into fists, hearing her laugh at Gryffindor Lee Jordan's rather amusing commentary as the game progressed – left Lillian smiling, rather content with the way things were at the moment.

Even Blaise, as indifferent as he was, was standing on his feet, eyes riveted to the flying brooms, the twisting bodies and the dangerous bludgers.

None of them could have expected what came next though.

Lillian's gaze had wandered to Harry, who seemed to be on a mission towards the snitch only he could see, when she the tail of his broom gave a violent twitch.

Her heart stuttered before it began to pulse hard against her chest, the sound of it pounding in her ears drowning out the frantic students, the sound of Lee Jordan's voice disappearing; it was almost as if she were disassociating from her own body. All she could see was the twitching broom, and a rather clueless Harry before suddenly, his broom lurched.

Without thought, her left hand shot out, gripping a handful of soft robes, her gaze riveted to the catastrophe just waiting to happen.

"That's not normal," Devon stated, "_Right_? What's going on? Lillian?"

But Lillian had no answers, could only watch on with the rest of Hogwarts as Harry's broom began to lurch once more, it was _trying_ to throw him off.

There was a commotion in the Professor section of the stands before Harry lost his grip and fell, just barely hanging onto his suddenly pliant broom.

"_Oh God_, can someone not _help_ him?" Devon demanded incredulously.

"That's not the way the game works." Blaise responded, voice tense; it was the sound of that terseness that had Lillian pulling her attention away from her struggling god-brother and to the boy beside her. It was then that she realized her hand was gripping tightly onto his immaculately pressed robes, wrinkling the flawless, soft fabric.

Surprised, she withdrew from him as if she had been burned, meeting his golden gaze only briefly before clenching her jaw and turning her attention back to the pitch, refusing to look at the boy beside her as she stealthily withdrew her wand and did a discrete motion, whispering the words _Wingardium Leviosa_ as she manipulated his right leg – maybe he could have saved himself, but she wasn't willing to risk that more than fifty foot fall.

It was no sooner then he had safely sat himself upon his broom that he was flooring it towards the pitch floor, no thought to his increasing velocity as he brought his feet to his broom and reached forward.

Lillian wanted so badly to look away, but it was as if it were one of those bad movies she had watched with her cousin Nymph over past summers, a movie you could hardly stand to watch, but you watched it anyways because you couldn't find it within yourself to look away. And as she watched, it was almost as if it were one of those god awful slow-motion scenes; the way Harry leaned too far forward and took a tumble head first off of his broom.

Lillian had never heard such silence descend upon so many people before, doubted she would ever hear such a collective silence again as everyone, Slytherin and Gryffindor, student and professor alike, waited with bated breath as Harry came to his knees and began lurching – as if he were trying to vomit but coming up empty stomached instead.

When the lurching stopped, he stared, dazed by whatever was in his hand before he rose to his feet and held up his hand. _The bloody fool had done it_.

"_He caught the snitch_." She whispered softly two seconds before Lee Jordan screamed it for the whole region to hear.

"Oh. My. _God_." Devon exclaimed breathlessly, "He _is_ an amazing Seeker. I almost want to cheer _for_ him."

A few girls in the row before them turned to shoot Devon a nasty look, but their nasty looks were soon replaced with blank fear at the arc look that Lillian gave them in response to such attitude directed towards her friend. "Is there a problem?"

Their gazes flickered to her still withdrawn wand before they both gave quick shakes of their head. "Then turn around."

Satisfied by their compliance, she tucked her wand away before taking a look at her absolutely _fuming_ cousin – and she would be a liar if the she said the sight of his anger didn't make her want to laugh.

"Care to enlighten us?" Blaise implored tonelessly, obviously noticing her mirth.

Giving him a slanted gaze of her own, she smirked, "If Draco hadn't been such a prat, Gryffindor would have never won."

She saw his lips pull into a one-sided smirk, heard Devon laugh from her other side, "How insufferable is he going to be for the next few days?" She demanded.

"Intolerably so," Lillian informed her, "So we'd better get a head start back to the castle. I'd rather _not_ be in the common room when he arrives…Let alone _Flint_." The sixth-year Quidditch captain was an old mass of vile words, cold sneers and idiocy; Lillian had already made it a point to steer as clear from Marcus Flint as she possibly could, for she knew nothing good could ever come from socializing with him.

* * *

To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

x


	11. Freezing Classrooms and Holiday Plans

_**AN:**_

A relatively short chapter, and that may disappoint a few of you, but I just couldn't think of anything else to put in this chapter and I don't want to force it.

* * *

_Special shout outs_:

**xXMizz Alec VolutriXx**: Thank you!

**Cookies:** I can promise more Harry and Lillian interactions in the later books, but they don't really have much reason to interact until Azkaban - after all, Harry's under the assumption that she's connected - in some way shape or form - to his parent's deaths. Thank you! That's a very lovely compliment. :) ...I don't know...who do you think cousin Nymph is? 0.o

x

* * *

Grey clashed with hate-filled green for a brief moment, before green eyes jerked back to their owner's cauldron, hair in disarray and glasses skewed as Harry studiously fought to ignore Draco's subtly vicious words.

It was pointless, trying to ignore Draco, Lillian could have told Harry that, unless one had grown up with Draco since the age of diapers one could not tune him out.

"Are you sure you'll be okay over holiday?" Lillian inquired of Devon – who had opted to stay at Hogwarts instead of return to the government home she had grown up in.

"Just send me a few sweaters?" She questioned, her smile soft, her eyes dark with solemn emotion. "It's bloody arctic in these halls." A puff of white air punctuated her remark.

"Done," Lillian promised as she added the necessary ingredients to their shared cauldron.

"What will you and _his grace_ be doing?" Devon shot a brief, rather unamused look to said _grace_.

"Private tutoring, a big pureblood party on the eve of Christmas, and a whole lot of preparation for spring finals." Mostly true, Lillian kept her visit to Azkaban to herself, Devon wasn't naïve to the world, but she was naïve to the horrors of Azkaban – Lillian would try and keep it that way for years to come.

"Sounds boring…besides the party, that sounds fun." Devon commented, stirring the potion four times clock-wise, and twice counter-clockwise.

"Not nearly as fun as it sounds," Lillian assured, "_Impeccable manners, utter perfection, no flaws_," Lillian murmured displeasingly.

Devon shook her head furiously, "And this is why I'm happy to be muggle born." She teased, sticking her tongue out at Lillian in response to narrowed grey eyes.

"Just you wait," Lillian warned, "Your time will come, see how smug you are then."

Devon looked about to object when their attention was drawn to the back of the room, "_You call that a potion?_" Professor Snape's haughty demand, everyone stopped what they were doing – most Gryffindors seemed rather surprised that, for once, it was a Slytherin being chastised.

Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson were near trembling under their Head of House's beady black gaze, "Which one of you thought it prudent to add _six_ pieces of lavender, and _not_ four like the instructions direct?"

Pansy immediately pointed at Nott, whose flushed skin turned white, in the face of Professor Snape's disdain. "Class dismissed, Nott, you'll clean everyone's cauldrons."

Nott's shoulders sagged, and more than a few Gryffindors openly gaped in shock of his punishment – what most other students didn't tend to realize, was though Professor Snape favored us, he also expected far more from his house students, and thus he demanded more from them, and if his house students failed to meet his demands, they were punished rather harshly.

Some Slytherin students hated him for it, Lillian respected him for it.

As the other students began filing out, eager to be out of the arctic room, Lillian took off her robe, rolled up her sleeves, and began grabbing cauldrons.

"You…You don't have to do that." Nott exclaimed, voice laden with surprise.

She shrugged, "Seeing how your partner abandoned you, when it was just as much her fault as yours, I figure you could use an extra hand."

"I…thanks." He offered her a small grin, color returning to his skin in the face of her kindness.

"Where are the sponges?" Devon inquired from across the room, "One of those Gryffindorks made a mess the size of Malfoy's ego."

Lillian gave a soft laugh, "Sure you won't need a mop?"

Devon gave a snort, but it was Blaise's surprising voice that answered her original question. "Cupboard in the back, next to the rat tails."

"So gross," Was Devon's response as she vanished inside of the aforementioned cupboard.

"Blaise?" Lillian questioned, wondering just why he had come back, he had been one of the first few to leave – though generally he only went so far before taking up residence against a wall and waiting for she and Devon to catch up; Draco had taken to Crabbe and Goyle's companionship these past few weeks.

"Realized you guys weren't coming out anytime soon." Was the only response he afforded her as he set his bag on a table and gracefully took off his robe, hanging it from an open cabinet so as to not wrinkle it before he pushed up his sleeves and began taking up cauldrons.

Poor Nott didn't really know _what_ to do with himself when he realized that the three Slytherins who rarely said a word to anyone outside of their small circle – and were thus deemed rather non-amiable and intimidating – were helping him clean up an entire potions room.

"Here you go Theo," Lillian handed over another cauldron before helping Devon with her armful of cleaning supplies.

For the next forty-five minutes that they spent cleaning, they talked about their varying holiday plans; none of them having realized that Professor Snape had been in his office near the whole time, silently listening to the exchange of words between the four students – three of those four making up the least likely of companions; a group far more bizarre than the one Potter, Weasley and Granger made.

* * *

To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

x


	12. Train Rides and Apologies

_**AN:**_

It's a rather short chapter, my apologies on that, but the next few chapters should be relatively (if not much) longer.

If there's any confusion with the later content of the chapter, just let me know and I'll do my best to fix the confusion.

* * *

**Sidenote:** _Italics_ is a past encounter, a memory.

* * *

_Special shout outs_:

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you! And I figure even the smartest of kids make mistakes in first year classes - especially with the rather intimidating Snape. Plus, the mistake was just as much as Pansy's fault, she was his partner after all.

**Amandla123:** Thank you so much! That's a great compliment. I'll do my best to keep it as original as possible. :)

**Lady Elizabeth of New York**: thank you! I know this chapter isn't much content wise, but I hope it's still entertaining. Longer chapters should be on their way. :)

**c00k1es:** They won't _not_be getting along, haha, I have a feeling Pansy is just going to be a rather annoying nuisance to Lillian, especially when she begins crushing on Draco. You're not wrong! And yes, I did notice! :)

**Idea:** I'm glad you like it! I'll do my best to keep it as original and well written as possible. :) I changed the age to two, I believe. I had some serious problems with my math at the beginning of this story. I wanted to make her a little older than everyone else (at least Harry), so she's 11 going into Hogwarts, but turning twelve within the first few months of school. I hope that clears up any confusion, if it doesn't, just let me know!

x

* * *

Lillian was reading a tattered muggle book she had borrowed from Devon when Crabbe, Goyle and Draco stumbled into the previously silent compartment.

Gaze lifting to meet unamused caramel, she quirked a brow as Crabbe took the free bench space beside Blaise, Goyle taking the space beside her as Draco remained standing and began telling this elaborate, wildly gesturing fable that was so utterly ridiculous, Lillian couldn't even _pretend_ to read her book.

"So you killed the troll, and _then_, pray tell, what happened?" She caught a twitch of Blaise's mouth, saw the laughter in Draco's gaze.

"I skinned it of course, sold the hide to a dark wizard butcher and gave the bones to an old Irish wolfhound in the muggle alleys of London."

Crabbe and Goyle sighed in awe; Lillian had to physically bite her lip before her laughter escaped her. "Oh_, of course. _How _could_ I be so positively foolish and not deduce that most _illogical_ outcome." When Crabbe and Goyle began muttering between themselves, Draco shot her a wink over their heads.

After a few moments, Draco rallied the two fools, "C'mon, I told Parkinson I'd tell her the story."

With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, Lillian returned her attention to her book, only to find a few moments later she had a rather full bladder.

"I'll be back Blaise," She murmured as she set aside her book and exited the compartment.

She had only just exited the lavatory when she bumped into a rather frazzled Granger.

"Granger…" Lillian greeted coolly, "What brings you to this end of the train." Most of the Gryffindors chose to sit towards the front or in the middle of the train. Slytherins were generally in the back; and Lillian knew rather certainly that Granger's compartment was closer to the lavatories located on the other side of the train – Lillian had passed it on her way to find an empty compartment to share with Blaise.

"I…I wanted to apologize…"

_'I'm not a pureblood!' A tear-roughened voice lashing out with sharp words, 'I wasn't raised to be a cold-blooded creature immune to the distaste of the world!' _

"You were speaking your mind. I can hardly fault you for it." Her toneless response; she recalled rather vividly the event in which Hermione alluded to –Lillian had heard tears from the corridor in which she walked, had, against her better judgment, gone to check on the source of aforementioned tears only to find Granger in a deserted girl's room sobbing because of the two boys who were now her closest friends.

"But you were only trying to help."

_ 'Granger, why on Earth are you crying?' _

_'Just some stupid boys.' _

"Which was an obvious mistake on my behalf."

The muggleborn girl flinched, "Will you not forgive me?"

"We aren't friends Granger, why do you need my acceptance when you have Potter and Weasley's?"

Tawny eyes looked to the floor, bottom lip being drawn between large teeth as Hermione seemed to gather her courage in order to steel herself and meet Lillian's unchanging grey gaze once more. "You were there for me when no one else was."

"And that should have meant something?"

"It means _everything_." She objected adamantly.

Lillian didn't speak for a long moment, waited until Granger appeared as if she wanted to crawl out of her skin before saying, "Heard you were looking for Flamel."

Surprise had her eyes widening, "How..."

"Weasley suffers from a lack of volume control." She interrupted, "Try your history book." Was her advice as she turned away and headed back to the compartment she shared with Blaise.

_'It doesn't take being a pureblood to become a vindictive prat Granger. Nor does said pureblood have to be a Snake, and if you don't believe me, answer me this: who was it that put you here? In the girl's bathroom crying through your classes on Halloween?' _

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


	13. Family Reunions and Chocolate Frogs

**AN:**

Sorry for the delay! Hope it was worth the wait. If there are any errors, please let me know, I only checked it once before posting it hastily in between classes. I'll definitely go back and recheck it when I have more free time!

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: No Theo action, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

**MyHarryPotterAddiction:** Thank you? :D

**Monsta-starr**: Sorry for the not-so-soon update, but I hope it was worth the wait!

**c00k1es:** I honestly have no idea when she's going to speak to Harry. Sorry I can't give you more of a definite answer. As for other Slytherin girls, I haven't a clue if I'm going to add any of them. Either way, they won't have an extraordinary impact on Lillian's time at Hogwarts. She's not the type to have more than a few really close friends. She may become acquainted with more girls...eventually, maybe. No guarantees though.

**To all my reviewers**: you guys rock, thank you for the encouragement, it means a lot!

**To all you non reviewers:** you rock too, and I'm glad you're still reading!

**x**

* * *

Lillian was just finishing up another letter to be sent out when a clearing of the throat alerted her to her Uncle's presence.

"Lucius." She greeted, not turning around as she sealed the envelope closed and addressed the off-white paper.

"Are you ready?" Came his cool question.

_As I'll ever be_. "Yes."

"Then stand and let us leave." He commanded.

Tucking the newly written envelope between the thin twine containing a newly acquired paper-bound book she had wrapped in newspaper the night before, she gave the package to the Eagle Owl patiently awaiting her instructions as it perched on the windowsill pressed against her desk.

Leaning forward, she whispered the Household name, and waited until the owl had taken off into the darkening sky before turning to face her Uncle; his blue eyes flickering between the bird and herself repeatedly.

Extending his elbow, he asked no questions – though she could see the curiosity in his gaze – merely waited for her hand to wrap securely around his arm before the painful tug of an incoming apparition wrenched her stomach in a nauseating twist.

She didn't know if that twisting sensation was a normal side effect of apparating, or if her reaction was a result of the location in which they had apparated to – she'd never apparated anywhere else though, so she nothing to compare the sensation with.

Before her stood a large, dark, looming castle. Filled with death, tainted by insanity, and bathing in screams – she looked up into the thunderous skies that always seemed to surround Azkaban, providing no light, no hope, to those who resided there.

The first time she had visited Azkaban, she had been four years old, and she had been utterly and absolutely terrified. That was the first time she had learned what it truly meant to be a Black; what it meant to have Sirius Black as your father and Bellatrix Lestrange as your aunt. She remembered seeing the Dementors, remembered the utter despair that had gripped her tiny body until Lucius had commanded them away and whisked her away inside the dreary, cold walls – but the inside offered no protection, if anything, it had only been worse.

As she stepped through the only door leading into or out of Azkaban, she equated the transition with stepping back centuries into the past; there was no light besides what filtered in through concrete cracks, besides the flickering shadows offered by mounted torches. Wands weren't permitted, for obvious reasons – _visitors_ weren't even permitted, but Lillian had never found it within her strength to question just how Lucius had gotten her recurring visits, found she didn't _want_ to know the answer to that unvoiced question.

"You know your way?" It was always the same question, in exactly the same spot.

Six feet away from the entryway, in front of the darkened, wretched corridor filled with the poignant rank of decaying flesh, Lucius always stopped there. She silently theorized that it was because he lacked the strength to accompany her past the small cells, the deranged inmates. She often wondered if he pondered just where she drew the strength of will to make such a journey on a continuous basis for a man she hadn't known long enough to recall more than a handful of shared experiences.

Giving a nod of response, she waited for his next predicted words, "I'll be here."

Another nod on her part before she was stepping into the darkly shadowed corridor, robes held tight around her body, chin tilted up, eyes forward. She couldn't show weakness here, for those who lingered to the last vestiges of their sanity were like bloodhounds, they could smell weakness from a kilometer away – and if they caught wind of it, they would exploit it mercilessly and she'd be left feeling irrevocably broken inside for months afterwards.

The specific cell she sought out, was a five-minute journey down twisting corridors and away from her only means of escapes; it was one of the last containers on a row of the most malicious, most sadistic, dark magic users and murderers. It was the cell just one shy of the corner turning to another part of the prison – it was a cell that was neighbored by the most sadistic dark witch Lillian had ever known to exist, it was a cell that held the only remaining person from her direct bloodline. None other than Sirius Black, her father.

As per usual, when she reached the cell she sought, she sat in front of the bars, legs crossed and a good distance away from the neighboring cell; so if her Aunt was tempted to grab her, she wouldn't be able to reach – it was a lesson she had learnt the hard way, a lesson she had the emotional and physical scars to show for.

"I've started Hogwarts." She started out immediately, voice controlled so as to come off as completely emotionless. Emotion drew the attention of Dementors, the kind of attention that left you withdrawn and exhausted for weeks on end afterwards.

"What house?" The dull hope in his broken rasp broke her heart, for she knew, what she said next would crush that hope.

"Slytherin."

An ecstatic cackle of glee from beside Lillian, the terror-inspiring sound bouncing off the dark, damp walls like shattering glass in a silent room. Lillian didn't bat an eye; she'd grown used to the demented sound a few years prior.

"_Ah_, _Sirius_, and you were so _hopeful_," Distaste at the very _idea_ of an emotion so obscene, "That she would take after you. One of those _despicable_ Gryffindors. A _snake_ you produced, she has no lion's heart."

"I've befriended a muggleborn." The gasp that escaped her Aunt Bellatrix, had a smirk pulling at Lillian's lips, she enjoyed shaming the demented dark witch. "You'll be pleased to hear, Aunt Bellatrix, she's in Slytherin."

As her Aunt went on a screaming tangent about Houses, dignity, pureblood ideals, and extermination of the '_vermin'_; Lillian focused her attention on the bleak skeleton of the man shadowed in the corner of his cell – his arms loosely folded over legs bent at the knees, his head bowed slightly, shaggy black hair shielding his sunken face.

"Harry Potter has joined Hogwarts as well." She knew Sirius had been awaiting the moment that she and Harry joined Hogwarts, knew that Sirius only lived for the moment that he could hear about the boy whose parents had been his best friends, his only family. "A Gryffindor, of course. He's got the unruliest black hair, and outstanding green eyes. He's a first year Seeker for his House team as well."

A shift in her father's body, she could catch a faint curl of his lips through limp strands of his hair.

And it was that smile that had her informing her father of all of Harry's exploits at school thus far. Had her foregoing any mention of her own achievements, merely spoke until she could speak no more about the _Boy Who Lived_.

She didn't pause, didn't ask him questions. Sirius had bad days, and then he had worse days. It was on the worse days that he didn't speak, didn't look at her, he barely even breathed. It was on these days she just spoke, talking into the cold stone just to fill his ears with something other than the demented screams and cackles that Azkaban seemed to release like another's exhale of used oxygen; she talked endlessly just to fill his ears with something other than the sound of his own misery.

It was a good while later that she was rising from her position on the floor, "I'll be back after Christmas. Before next term." Brushing off her robes, she turned her head to catch the bony hands of her Aunt, her head leant against the bars of her cell, watching her through shadowed features. "Aunt Bellatrix, Professor Snape sends his _utmost_ regards."

The sound of distaste that escaped her Aunt, had Lillian's lips turning up once more into a smirk before she was turning her back and making her way back to the Uncle who she knew wouldn't have moved an inch from the spot in which she had left him.

Instead of apparition, Lucius and Lillian rode a carriage pulled by Thestrals back to the Manor. They always took a carriage back, ever since her first visit, it was a lengthy means of transportation that gave her ample amounts of time to push away the darkness that clung to her every breath, gave her time to push away the death that seemed to dim her eyes and sink her cheeks after each visit.

She appreciated the carriage just as she appreciated the method in which they arrived to Azkaban. She never wanted more time than it took to apparate to think about just where it was she was going, what she was doing there, and why she had to do it there. She didn't want the extra time to think of all the things that could go wrong, all the things that _had_ gone wrong. Apparating to Azkaban gave her no time to do any of the aforementioned things, it gave her just enough time to solidify her cold, emotionless mask and nothing more.

It was as they were finally pulling up the manor a few hours later that Lucius broke the dark silence that had descended upon their cabin. "I trust your visit was well?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Everyone was well-behaved?" A thinly-veiled question that suggested he wanted to make sure _she_ had been well-behaved, when really, she had figured years ago, that it was his backhanded way of making sure Bellatrix and Sirius caused no problems and that no other inmate had gotten a hold of her.

"Everyone was where they should be, no issues were had."

He gave a confirmatory nod, his cane coming to rest on her abdomen as they piled out of the carriage, halting her progress before she could get too far a head of him.

"Your next visit?"

"After Christmas."

"My office the day after Christmas, we'll talk about when best to schedule it."

"Yes sir," She agreed politely, waiting for him to remove his cane before she turned back to the Manor, quickly ascending the stairs leading to the front door before disappearing inside; feeling Lucius' heavy gaze on her back all the way.

Her first smile after her visit to see her father came that evening after dinner – a new record, it usually took a solid three days before Draco could mangle a half-smile out of her. She was in her room, sitting at her desk studying for potions when a soft _'tap-tap'_ sounded against her window.

Lifting her head, her brows rose in surprise as she opened the window and let in the eager owl that held a small brown pouch between his beak.

Giving the Eagle Owl a long stroke along his back, Lillian opened the pouch, pulling out the cream-colored parchment and reading the letter swiftly before peering into the pouch. At the sight of the single chocolate frog, she grinned.

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


	14. Morning Errands and Midday Tea

**AN:**

Questions, comments, concerns, mistakes? Please let me know.

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you! I'm glad you liked the family reunion. :)

**c00k1es:** Yea, I had midterms and projects due, and this update was running a little late as well, but, hopefully updates shouldn't be longer than a week apart. I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter - honestly, I prefer writing it when I don't have to go off a script, and for the previous chapters, I've had to work with what goes on in the book. I'm also tremendously glad that you enjoyed the description of Azkaban. :) And, this chapter is definitely my longest by far, so I hope that pleases. Gotta give Lillian her spunk, haha, what better way to show the attitude than to see her subtly mouthing off to the crazy aunt? Lillian's relationship with Lucius _isn't_ all sunshine and daisies, but it's not all gunpowder and metal either and coming up you get a glimpse of a Narcissa x Lillian moment. Good guesses, guess we'll just have to wait and see. ;)

**Taffdog19943:** Thank you for the correction! I will rectify that mistake soon, promise!

**To all my reviewers**: you guys rock, thank you for the encouragement, it means a lot!

**To all you non reviewers**: you rock too, and I'm glad you're still reading!

**x**

* * *

A soft squeeze of her hand brought Lillian out of the land of unconsciousness and into the world of reality and all she could recall of the rather pleasant dream she had been having, was a faint echo of a multitude of entwined laughter.

Blinking several times, she looked at the bony, tiny hand gripping her own before looking slowly to the little House Elf that Lillian was rather fond of. "Dobby?"

"Good morning Miss Lillian." He greeted, large eyes blinking owlishly up at her – it had taken her years to get the little elf to call her by her first name, not her last; and even now, he only did it in the company of no other.

"Have I overslept?" She couldn't remember anything being on her schedule that day, and Lucius and Narcissa usually let her sleep however long she wished for a good week after a visit to Azkaban – a small, unspoken gift on their part…if only they knew that for many nights after a family visit, she rarely slept.

"No, Master Malfoy requested I awaken you and urge you to dress. I do believe he is taking you with him today on his errands. Dobby has no clue just what these errands may be, so Dobby begs of you not to question."

Sitting up, body tired and aching from a rather poor nights sleep, she didn't release the little elf's hand. "Thank you, Dobby."

"Another thing, Miss Lillian," He began after beaming at her praise, "Mistress Malfoy requests you pack a bag. She has informed the Master that he is to have you back by noon and you are to dress appropriately for a social occasion."

"Do you know what the bag is for, Dobby?" Lillian questioned as she swung her legs over the edge of her bed.

He gave two shakes of his head, "I do not, Miss Lillian, Mistress Malfoy did say to make sure you pack a few days worth of supplies, however."

Confused, but knowing not to push the Elf, she gave his hand a squeeze and his cheek a soft kiss before rising from bed and heading to the bathroom attached to her bedroom. "Thank you Dobby, please, inform Master Malfoy that I'll meet in the foyer in thirty-five minutes."

"Yes, Miss Lillian," Dobby agreed with an adoring grin, "I shall bring you breakfast before you go."

"There's no need Dobby, I'm not very hungry." She never was after Azkaban; she wouldn't eat normally for a few days more, even though her trip had been four days prior, the darkness and the despair of the place still clung to her skin relentlessly.

It took her a few years to realize that it was the kind of feeling that couldn't be scrubbed away, no matter how much soap she used, no matter how raw her skin became. She would just have to wait it out – and for as long as the clinging darkness remained, her appetite would be gone.

"Is Miss Lillian sure?" The saddened note in Dobby's voice was something she had grown used to hearing, but just because she was used to it, didn't make hearing it any easier for her half-Gryffindor heart to withstand.

"I'm sure Dobby, thank you."

… … …

Thirty-five minutes later she was in the foyer awaiting Lucius, dressed in a soft green sweater and dark-wash modest jeans with warmers beneath. She wore a black, softly lined jacket gifted to her last Christmas by Narcissa, cotton gloves gifted to her from Lucius that fit her slender hands terrifically, and slender snow boots that wouldn't be deemed inappropriate or too muggle-like for any business associates met during their travels.

When Lucius arrived, he was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, tremendously pressed business slacks, shiny black business shoes, his robes hanging in neat folds around his shoulders and his cane clutched easily in his left hand. He cast a narrowed glance over his nose at her apparel, before giving a solid nod and leading the way to the fireplace in the main living area.

As soon as she was inside the fireplace, he waited only long enough for her to take his arm before he was throwing down the floo powder and pronouncing Diagon Alley clearly into the silent room.

They spent the next few hours making small appointments, some related to the work Lucius did for the ministry, some of it to do with the Malfoy business, and very little of it having to deal with the impending Christmas holiday.

Lillian had spent most of the day quietly, speaking to Lucius in only brief sentences in the free intervals of time where they traveled from one location to the next. She would attentively, but not blatantly, listen to the words exchanged between Lucius and those whom he would meet with – doing what she did best, melding into the background to be unobserved.

Why she accompanied him to begin with, she didn't know, could only guess it was his way of keeping her mind occupied, his way of trying to help her out of her Azkaban induced stupor. It was appreciated, though she would never say such a thing aloud; the majority of Lillian's relationship with Lucius and Narcissa was largely unvoiced – that was how it always had been, and always would be.

It was half an hour before noon, the designated time in which Lillian was to be back at Malfoy Manor, when Lucius led them into an upscale restaurant for a light snack and tea.

"Do you wish for something from the menu?" He questioned as soon as their hostess sat them at a small table secluded from the rest of patrons inhabiting the sparsely filled restaurant.

"No thank you."

His blue eyes narrowed, jaw firmed as he regarded her shrewdly, "Have you eaten at all today?" A soft demand in a tone that many elder gentlemen of high prestige had flinched upon being at the receiving end – she merely blinked.

"I had a light breakfast." She lied.

By the tightening of his fingers around his glass of water she knew he was aware of her lie, he didn't call her on it though, merely watched her until the server came to take their order.

"We'll take two breakfast teas, and a fruit platter." With a slight bow, the server took their menus, Lillian's untouched, and disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm supposed to be having tea with Narcissa."

"I am aware." He quirked one brow at her, a silent question as to just why she felt the need to remind him.

"A light lunch usually accompanies noon tea."

"I'll be sure to remind Narcissa to have you eat," A cold promise that meant she would be watched to make sure she did, in fact, eat. "But you'll eat a few morsels now, to appease my company." His tone brooked no room for refusal. "And tea will keep you from gathering a cold."

"Of course." She murmured in agreement, holding his gaze for only a moment longer before turning her head, grey eyes falling to the floor-to-ceiling window they sat by.

It had started to flurry an hour prior, and Lillian loved the serenity that always accompanied her watching of falling snow.

… … …

Half an hour later, half a cup of tea and a few morsels of strawberries and watermelon settled in her stomach, Lillian and Lucius were stepping out of the fireplace and into the living room where Narcissa sat reading a book.

"Ah," She greeted as Lucius went to her side to place a kiss there in return greeting. "There you are. Just on time," Turning her cheek into her husband's kiss, her blue eyes resting rather gently on Lillian. "To your room Lillian, change your clothes into something socially appropriate and meet me here when you're done. Your bag has already been taken, so I do hope you haven't forgotten anything."

Nodding her head in acquiescence, Lillian made her way for the stairs, "If I have forgotten anything Aunt Narcissa, it's nothing of importance that I cannot live without for the time I am away."

Ten minutes later, her long hair brushed and neatly tamed, she re-entered the living room wearing a long sleeved, silver-blue silk dress that fell to her knees in a gentle wave and deep blue ballet flats.

Narcissa turned away from her husband to eye the collarbone neckline of Lillian's dress, the wrist-length sleeves and the flowing skirt that would fly up should Lillian have the spontaneous urge to twirl around.

Giving a soft smile in approval, she accepted her husband's hand of assistance and rose from her seat, giving his mouth a soft kiss before extending a hand for Lillian to take.

"Lucius," Lillian murmured as she followed Narcissa into the fireplace, "Would you please inform Draco that I hope he had an adequate time with the Goyle's this past weekend?"

Lucius' nod in confirmation was all she got before Narcissa was calling out the home of an older pureblood witch Lillian had met on many previous occasions.

The witch, Lady Deverity, was in her late sixties with a full body, soft hands, a full head of silver hair and the most devious brown eyes Lillian had ever before encountered. She was a woman well respected by most in the pureblood society, and though she liked to gossip just as much as the next noble woman, she was never degrading nor was she outright cruel. Lillian, for the most part, enjoyed the woman's company, for she had a rather wry sense of humor that scandalized the younger women but had Lillian hiding smiles behind teacups.

Lillian and Narcissa stepped out of the grand fireplace just in time to find Lady Deverity exchanging laughs with a tall dark haired man and his smiling wife, a boy a few inches taller than Lillian herself between the laughing, dark-haired couple.

Brown eyes caught grey as Lady Deverity offered Lillian a calm smile, "Ah, Lady Malfoy, Miss Black, I'm glad you could make it."

"Of course," Narcissa smiled, placing her hand to the small of Lillian's back to lead them gently forward. "We were glad to be invited."

The dark-haired family turned, and Lillian was slightly surprised to find it to be the Zabini family Lady Deverity had been laughing so amiably with – the Zabini's weren't in usual attendance at socials not related to societal parties or business events.

Mr. Zabini was a tall man, with dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. He was an outrageously handsome man, but he had always possessed an edge of darkness to his persona that suggested though he was beautiful, he was dangerous – not a man to be trifled with by any means, for his intelligence was a deadly beast, striking, honed, and unparalleled across the globe. He was younger than Lucius but maintained a business just as powerful, if not more so, than the Malfoy's own companies.

Lady Zabini was the kind of beautiful that made strangers thick with envy. Milk chocolate waves of hair that appeared like silk, flawlessly pale golden skin and honey-gold eyes she had passed down to her son; she was the kind of beautiful that made models on the fronts of muggle magazines weep. She was a foreign beauty, Brazilian to her husband's Italian ancestry; and she was kind. In the few instances where Lillian had addressed the Lady Zabini, Lillian had been truly attuned to the words of the Lady Witch and Lillian had never known the noble lady to utter a bad word concerning any one before.

Blaise stood beside them, his gaze pinned unwaveringly to Lillian, and she wondered just what he was seeing that had his eyes narrowing, his jaw clenching in a manor she was beginning to recognize as a cross between irritation and anger.

The Zabini couple smiled politely to Narcissa, Lady Zabini's gaze falling to Lillian and turning to a gentle kind of confusion that was soon reflected in Mister Zabini's own gaze; and once again, Lillian was left to wonder just what it was they were seeing, for surely, if something had been outwardly wrong with her appearance, Narcissa would have never permitted Lillian to accompany her to Lady Deverity's.

"Narcissa, Lillian, I'm sure you've met the Zabini's and their son Blaise before." Lady Deverity began, pulling the curious attention away from Lillian – a feat Lillian was more than thankful for, even if Blaise continued to watch her through narrowed caramel-gold eyes. "Nadia, Nicolai, this is Narcissa Malfoy and her niece Lillian."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance." Nicolai Zabini gave a soft bow of his head in greeting, his deep timbre of a voice the kind of sound that resonated deep inside of your chest; its faint lilt entrancing.

"Narcissa, Lillian," Nadia greeted, her slightly accented, lilting tones a sharp contrast to her husband's deep timbre, but just as enthralling.

Lillian wondered briefly just how Blaise carried no accented lilt to his words, though truthfully, it wasn't as if Lillian heard him speak in paragraph lengths on a daily basis.

"It's wonderful to meet you," Lillian murmured politely as Narcissa gave a nod in acknowledgement.

Mr. Zabini's dark gaze fell to her, just as sharp and observant as his son's gaze. "You go to school with Blaise, correct?"

"Yes sir," Lillian replied, "We're in the same House."

"Are you the one that sent the letter?" Nadia inquired with a soft smile, causing her husband to regard her in a curious fashion, her son to look at her with soft exasperation lining his expression – it was slightly bewildering to Lillian to see actual emotion on Blaise's expression but she had only a moment to dwell on the sudden emotional expression before she had to address the direct question.

"Yes ma'am," Lillian agreed, much to Narcissa's surprise. "To wish him a happy birthday, though belated the wish, I still felt it necessary to give my regards."

"Speaking of birthdays," Lady Deverity interrupted before Nadia Zabini could speak again, "Come to the tea room with me Lillian, I would like to discuss your upcoming birthday."

Upon accepting Deverity's suddenly outstretched hand, Lillian was led past the adults and her fellow Slytherin and into the empty drawing room filled with trays of pastries, platters of varying fruits and teacups waiting to be filled upon demand.

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


	15. Early Birthday Gift and Just Her Honesty

**_AN:_**

**Short chapter, I know, but I was satisfied with what I had written and I didn't want to push it. More chapters to come relatively quickly, though, so don't be too upset and I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! **

* * *

_Special shout outs:_

**C00k1es:** Did Blaise send the letter? Possibly. You'll the definite answer once I've finished with Sorcerer's Stone and start posting the Sorcerer's Stone extras. I am aware that Mrs. Zabini was seen as having multiple dead husbands, but in order to portray Blaise in the way I wanted to (as a slight OC) I changed his family dynamic. Lady Deverity, Deverity is her last name, sorry for the confusion! As for Lillian's birthday, I'm still playing around with dates, but it's somewhere in December, I'll be sure to give a more specific day within the next couple of chapters. Black hair, curly, but not like Bellatrix's, it will have a tendency to be a little messy, so her hair is more like Sirius's. As for learning about Marlene, haven't really decided yet, sorry! And I am aware that Lucius has grey eyes in the novel (though his eyes are blue in the movies), but I wanted both Lucius and Narcissa to both have blue eyes, so that Draco's grey eyes are seen as more of a Black trait not a Malfoy trait.

**NCdPA:** I'm glad you like the story so far! I'll do my best to keep it likable. :) Thank you for the headsup! I'll definitely scour the chapters for that, thank you (again)! Gah, I really _can't_ answer these without spoiling it. haha. _But_, if you really don't mind spoilers, I'll be happy to PM you the answers to your questions. :)

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: I can neither confirm nor deny your conclusion. haha.

**Dauntless14:** Thank you! I'll do my best to keep it up, promise! (Sorry for the relatively short chapter. :/ ) And if you're enjoying the romance now, just wait until the later 'books' ;)

**Guest:** Thank you! Here's your update. ;)

**To all my reviewers**: you guys rock, thank you for the encouragement, it means a lot!

**To all you non reviewers**: you rock too, and I'm glad you're still reading!

**x**

* * *

Lillian was patiently waiting for Narcissa to finish her goodbyes, debating just where their next stop would be, when her Aunt joined her side and they filed into the line of ladies waiting for the fireplace.

"You haven't asked yet," Narcissa murmured softly from Lillian's side.

"I'm exercising patience." She murmured smartly, earning a small smirk from her Aunt.

"In reward of your practice, you'll be going to stay with your Aunt."

Grey eyes widened, and it was an exercise of her self-control to keep a wide grin from lifting her lips and betraying the sudden excess of emotion she was feeling.

"For how long?" She asked, voice laced with tendrils of joy that had distant blue eyes deepening with warmth.

"A week." Narcissa informed.

It was in times like these that Lillian regretted being surrounded by Slytherins, for she would have liked nothing more than to give her Aunt Narcissa an exuberant hug – but she forced restraint upon herself, restraint made easier by promising herself that she would give her hugs to Nymph, Andy and Teddy.

It took her a long moment to compose her features, to stow away her joy in order to address her aunt calmly, in the way a Slytherin heir was _supposed_ to address any adult no matter the circumstance.

"I would like to thank you, for yours and Lucius's kindness in allowing me this gift."

"Consider it an early birthday present." Narcissa murmured as they stepped into the now empty fireplace; a sadness to her speculating blue eyes that Lillian didn't understand.

Without preamble, Narcissa called out their destination and the familiar green flames flared wildly, taking up Lillian's vision so that nothing else could be seen; but as soon as the green flames had settled, slender arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, wild pink replacing green in her vision as she returned the hold without hesitance, laughter already spilling past her lips as she caught the outlines of her Aunt and Uncle behind her crazy cousin.

"_Nymph_!" Lillian exclaimed with joy, allowing her older cousin to pull her out of the fireplace; missing the exchange between estranged sisters as Nymph tripped over her own socks, inspiring another round of laughter from Lillian – joy overwhelming her as the past week and a half just seemed to dissolve away from her.

It had been _months_, nearly a year, since she last saw her disowned family; and that time had weighed heavily upon Lillian's shoulders, for the Tonks were the only people Lillian had ever been able to truly be _free_ with, she didn't have to wear some Slytherin shield. To them, Lillian had always been, and always would be, just another loved one, another daughter, or a sibling never had. The only thing they expected of her, was her honesty.

Barely aware of the green flames announcing Narcissa's departure, Lillian flung herself at her Aunt and Uncle, grinning as they each kissed one of her cheeks, their arms tight around her slender frame as they fired off question after question before Nymph was pulling her into the kitchen, demanding to know all about Hogwarts before she informed Lillian of any details regarding Nymph's application to become an Auror.

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


	16. Clumsy Cousins and Time-Turner Grins

_**AN:**_

Here it is, a little lightheartedness tinged with a touch of severity, my apologies for the delay.

Chapters will regain some length once Lillian's back at Hogwarts.

* * *

_Special Shout outs:_

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: I'm glad you thought so! :)

**c00k1es:** Thank you I'm glad you liked it, the Tonks are sort of Lillian's '_what if'_ family. And yes, there will be a little bit of Lillian's rebelliousness coming out to play. :)

* * *

**To all my reviewers: you guys rock, thank you for the encouragement, it means a lot!**

**To all you non reviewers: you rock too, and I'm glad you're still reading!**

**x**

* * *

"_Lillian_!" Nymph yelled from somewhere behind the laughing girl, "You know I'm a clumsy fool!"

Lillian dipped her broom in a dangerous manner before whipping around and spiraling towards her pouting, purple-haired cousin, the world spinning precariously around her in her flight.

"I left you alone for ten seconds Nymph," Lillian teased before coming to a stop before her cousin, a cousin who was regarding her upside down position with repressed snorts of laughter.

"_Lillian Marlene Black_," A severe chastisement that had Lillian upturning her borrowed broom immediately to peer down at her Aunt whose arms were crossed, and her mouth set firmly in a manner that suggested a lecture was about to be given. "If you don't quit hanging upside down on that broom this instant, I'm going to make sure you never fly again."

Sharing a wide smile with a laughing Nymph, Lillian suddenly let her broom drop, her stomach lifting and her body weightless before she stopped just a few feet above the ground, out of reaching distance from her aunt. She could hear the restrained laughter of her uncle from the backdoor.

"I'm sorry Aunty A," Lillian bit her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden – but the rush of adrenaline in her bloodstream was far too powerful to make her attempt successful. "Have I worried you?"

Andromeda's scowl was rather impressive, but not the scariest Lillian had ever seen. "Listen here Miss Black," Andromeda began, her heart pounding furiously inside of her ribcage from the suspending fear of watching her niece fly on the broom with wild abandon. "You're being reckless with your safety and I will _not_…"

Andromeda's lecture was cut short as Nymph whizzed by her mother, snorting like a wild pig as she tugged on Lillian's ponytail, "Oh quit being a spoil sport, mum, we both know Lillian's a pro on that thing."

"She's right Andy," Ted called as he exited the doorway and made his way to the grass, his intention to placate his worried wife. "She hasn't fallen off since she was seven."

"That's aside from the point Ted," Andromeda grumbled.

"You worry too much love, but, in an effort to save you from a heart attack," Ted wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, chin resting on her shoulder as he regarding his niece; a niece whose gaze lingered on the way Ted held his wife, silver eyes darkening with warm emotion before lightening once more to joy-filled silver. "Lillian, do us a favor, save the savvy moves for the quidditch pitch, yes?"

She shrugged, "Lucius has forbidden me to play Quidditch at Hogwarts."

All three Tonks started, Lillian was a bloody good flyer – perfect for a future chaser position – they couldn't understand why Lucius would forbid it; especially since he was the one that bought Lillian her first broom.

"Why the bloody hell would he do that?" Nymph inquired, shrugging sheepishly at her mother's chastising look that screamed 'watch your mouth'.

"Says it's not a sport for women." She shrugged carelessly, but they could all see the disappointment in her eyes; she adored flying, got the adoration from her father – not that Lillian was aware of that fact.

Lillian had accepted Lucius's ruling four years ago, had come to terms with only ever being able to fly on her rare visits with the Tonks, and thus cherished these moments with all she had in her.

"Well, then," Andromeda scowled at the hovering girl, "Save it for the professional league, and until you've been drafted, you're in the minors – as the American's say – we understood?"

Lillian grinned a wicked grin that was an exact echo of her father's from his Hogwarts days; so similar were their smiles, in fact, that Andromeda felt her breath catch. _Merlin, if things had been different_.

"Off you go," Ted shooed in Andromeda's ensuing silence, "Dora," Ted warned, "Do try to stay out of the way of the trees, yes?"

The purple haired young woman grumbled under her breath as she took off after her laughing cousin.

"Andy?" Ted murmured into his wife's ear.

"For a moment," She responded, dark eyes pinned to the flying girls in the sky, the younger of the two nearly flying circles around the other girl. "It was like I was looking into the past, looking at Sirius."

Ted's arms tightened gently around Andromeda, "I never thought I'd see that prankster grin again." He admitted, also surprised at the startling likeness of Lillian's wicked grin. "The best pranksters in the school that lot."

"_I wish_," Andromeda murmured, smiling softly as her daughter swerved into the branches of a nearby tree despite her father's direct order to avoid aforementioned trees, Lillian easily helping Nymphadora to disentangle herself from the mess. "That Sirius, Remus and James were here to see this, see her and Harry. I wish that nothing had gone wrong, I bet they'd all be so proud."

Ted nuzzled a kiss to Andromeda's temple, "James is watching, so is Lily," He whispered softly, "And no matter what happened in the past, I'm sure they're smiling down on Lillian, watching over her just as they are their son."

"I pray that you're right Ted," Andromeda confessed on a soft exhalation; because, Andromeda feared, that Lillian needed the love of a guardian just as much as the young Potter boy did, if not just a tad more so.

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


	17. Whispered Questions & Birthday Greetings

_**AN:**_

The ending gave me a little trouble, but still, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

_Special Shout outs:_

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you! :D

**c00ki3s:** Just a few more and then she's back at Hogwarts. And I'll most definitely put in a Draco/Lillian moment. :)

**Guest:** Thank you, for pointing out that error. However, through various sources, I have yet to have found stated proof of Marlene McKinnon's blood-status. However, if she is pure-blood, as you believe, then in this story, I've changed her character to muggle born status. I appreciate your concern though, and thank you, once again, for so kindly pointing it out.

* * *

**To all my reviewers: you guys rock, thank you for the encouragement, it means a lot!**

**To all you non reviewers: you rock too, and I'm glad you're still reading!**

**x**

* * *

They were lying on Nymph's bed – pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip – as they watched American Disney movies on the VCR contraption Uncle Ted had given Nymph on her eleventh birthday.

It was fairly early in the morning – the sun had only been up for an hour or two – but Lillian had been unable to sleep and Nymph had gently insisted that they watch old children's movies until Andromeda and Teddy woke up in an effort to keep Lillian distracted from the dark, twisted imprint of Azkaban on her mind.

The angular faced woman with crazy, two-toned hair was yelling at her ignorant goons as the hundreds of spotted dogs snuck out of the room they were trapped in, when Lillian decided to ask for Nymph's advice – something completely unrelated to Azkaban had been troubling her since the holidays had begun.

"Nym?"

Tonks jumped at the soft sound, having become so settled in the silence between she and her cousin that even the soft imploration seemed near deafening. It was only Lillian's quick reflexes that kept Nymphadora from falling off her bed and to the floor in a painful heap of clumsy limbs.

"Yes, Lily?" Nymph inquired after she shot her younger cousin a thankful grin.

"Should I send him a Christmas card?" Twinkling dark eyes turned to the other girl, but the Lillian's grey eyes remained fixed on the tele, her face an expressionless mask that had always hurt Tonks' heart but only because she had never wanted her cousin to have to be so outwardly distant – there had been many fights between Tonks and her parents when she was little, with her always demanding to know just _why_ Lillian had to live with the Malfoys when she would be able to laugh freely with them; even now, Tonks just barely understood the reasonings for why Lillian was a ward of the Malfoys and not the Tonks.

Tonks only had to think for a moment before she knew just who _him_ was, "I'm sure the young Harry would be mighty pleased."

Soft violet brows furrowed at the sudden downward turn of her cousin's full mouth, as sleep-mussed midnight curls tumbled around slender shoulders, Lillian suddenly shaking her head softly in a denial Tonks couldn't comprehend. "If I do, he can't know it was me who sent it."

"And why not?" Tonks demanded.

"Because to him I'm just some Slytherin girl half the school fears." A soft murmur that had Tonks wrapping an arm around Lillian and pulling her close into her side, "He doesn't know who my father is," She whispered as she settled into Tonks' side. "Doesn't know I'm his god-sister. I'm Draco Malfoy's cousin, the Malfoy ward, and that's all he needs to know to hate me."

Tonks' grip tightened, "There will be a day," Tonks promised, "When Harry Potter knows you for who you are Lillian, and on that day, he'll regret ever lumping you in with the rest of the Slytherin lot."

Dark eyes studied the delicate, exceedingly pretty features of the young storm-eyed girl – Tonks' also knew that one day, Lillian would grow up to be one of the most beautiful girls Tonks' had ever encountered…

"_I'll send the letter_." Lillian would be one of the strongest too.

It was as the final credits finished a little while later, the tele screen turning blue as the device automatically began to rewind, that Tonks' parents opened the bedroom door, wide, mischievous smiles on their mouths.

"_Lillian_," Ted implored in a happy tone, "Do you care to tell me the date?"

Lillian's mouth twitched as she did her best to keep a smile off her lips, expression lightening considerably at the question. "Of course Uncle Teddy, today is the nineteenth of December, of the year 1991."

"_Ah_, so it is." He clapped his hands, turning to a smiling Andromeda, "Andy, my love, was today an important day?"

"I can't say, darling." The dark haired beauty announced, dark eyes shining with repressed laughter.

"Did we have anything scheduled?" Ted pressed curiously.

"There _was_ something," Andromeda agreed.

"Do tell?"

"I believe there was a birthday, a twelfth birthday if I'm not mistaken."

"And you're never mistaken, my dearest Andy," Ted grinned over at the two smiling girls on the bed, "_So_, girls, what's that mean?"

"It _means_…." Nymph proclaimed in a suspenseful manner, before turning on her cousin and crushing her in a bone-grinding hug, hair flaming a luminescent pink "HAPPY TWELFTH BIRTHDAY LILLIAN!"

Andromeda Tonks watched from the doorway, gentle smile full of unending adoration, as her muggleborn husband joined their clumsy, beautiful daughter in her tickling of the young, remaining descendant of the Black name. A descendant who happened to be laughing so hard, so carelessly, that one would assume she had laughed every day for all of her twelve years as freely in the past as she did in this single moment.

It was because of the falsity of that assumption, that Andromeda summoned her camera and made sure to take dozens of photos as she silently vowed that one day, she would be able to show all of the photos she had ever taken of Lillian to someone other than her husband or daughter – that _one day_, Lillian would be able to be so openly happy with someone other than a Tonks, and when that day came, Lillian would no longer be forced to wear an indifferent mask in order to stay alive.

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


	18. Quiet Mornings and Christmas Bondings

**AN:**

Next chapter, heading back to Hogwarts.

I know there isn't much to this chapter, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same. :)

* * *

_Special Shout outs: _

**xXMizz Alec VolturiXx**: Thank you! :)

**StrawberryObsession:** I'm so happy you like it! You're support means a lot. And though this chapter isn't long, I hope you find it just as lovely as the rest of the story.

* * *

**To all my reviewers: you guys rock, thank you for the encouragement, it means a lot!**

**To all you non reviewers: you rock too, and I'm glad you're still reading!**

**x**

* * *

Lillian came out of her bathroom en suite to find Dobby waiting patiently on the edge of her bed, little legs swinging, feet dangling a few solid inches above the floor. When he saw her though, his feet stopped swinging and a wide smile pulled at his face, large eyes crinkling in withheld joy before he appeared before her.

"Merry Christmas Miss Lillian."

Smiling, she bent down at the waist, placing a quick, warm kiss to his sharp cheek, "Merry Christmas Dobby." She replied warmly before straightening up and making her way to her vanity, searching through a stack of ribbons and scarves until she pulled out a small, thin children's novel. "_This_," She smiled as she faced the little house elf, "This is for you."

"That's a big one Miss Lillian!" He exclaimed as he gently took the book from her hands; for the past two Christmases she had been teaching the little elf to read, and though it was a slow process, they were making progress – especially considering the amount of time it took for her to convince the little elf to even accept her gift.

"It's nothing we can't get through." She assured, giving him another kiss to his forehead before padding out of the room and a little ways down the hall, not pausing as she pushed open a closed door, stepping in to the large, extravagant room much like her own.

But where her walls were a dark, midnight blue, Draco's room was painted grey; and the room itself would have been rather droll if not for the large, floor-to-ceiling balcony window in the wall opposite the bedroom door, or the shockingly deep emerald sheets that covered her cousin's sleeping form.

As she had done for the past four Christmases, she crawled onto his queen sized bed – ignoring his eagle spread position – and slipped under the soft, shimmering sheets until she was lying next to him, her head on his chest as he gave a soft jerk and awoke.

He didn't say anything, merely gave a quiet yawn and lifted one of his hands to play with her sloppy ponytail, fingers twisting and pulling the untamed curls.

They laid like that for a good while, long enough for the sky to lighten considerably outside, before Lillian broke the contented silence.

"How was your time with Crabbe and Goyle?" His resounding grunt had her smiling, "You like them."

"They're mindless idiots," He grumbled, before he let out a sigh and admitted, "But they're loyal without fault."

And loyal without fault was something to be treasured by her cousin – but Lillian didn't want Draco to return that loyalty, not in full; for as they grew, the chance for elaborate cruelty was there. Crabbe and Goyle, foremost and always, would be children of Slytherin and children of Slytherin weren't to be fully trusted until they had hit puberty and completely settled into their skin.

"I didn't like missing your birthday." He confessed in the face of her contemplative silence and the truth was, he had fully _abhorred_ missing her birthday. Even though he knew she needed her time with her other _family,_ he didn't like sharing her, especially not on a day where his parents would allow them to do their own thing from dawn till dusk, no interference, no political images to uphold.

Always, on her birthday, he didn't have to keep hidden his affection for the girl he considered his sister; on those days he did not have to keep his emotions locked away until he sometimes wondered if Lillian even knew that he loved her with a familial affection that rivaled the love he had for his parents.

"I wish I could have seen you," She agreed; the missing presence of Draco had been the only downfall to an otherwise spectacular birthday.

"What did you do?"

And so she informed him of all he had missed on her trip to the Tonks; he laughed when she told him of her ride on the borrowed broomstick, asked questions as she told him about all the muggle movies she watched, held her tighter when told him of the exuberant singing and unrestrained laughter. And when she was done, he told her of his time with Crabbe and Goyle, of the stories he had spun, the 'adventures' they had gone on, and the flying they had done.

It was hours later, the midday sun illuminating his room brightly, that they clamored out of his bed where he proceeded to laugh at the fat red man decorating her green pajamas until they were in the dining room, where their laughter died down to small, restrained smiles as they joined Lucius and Narcissa at the table for a large midday feast.

Narcissa and Lucius had freely given Christmas morning to them as well, the only rule an unspoken understanding that Draco and Lillian would return to formalities once noon dawned.

* * *

**To all my reviewers, followers, first timers, and old-timers, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Until next time,**

**x**


End file.
